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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28831146">I chose only your savage heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jean____Ralphio/pseuds/Jean____Ralphio'>Jean____Ralphio</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pining, Teacher!Henry, artist!Benedict, barista!Benedict, benedict the bi disaster, modern!AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:21:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,623</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28831146</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jean____Ralphio/pseuds/Jean____Ralphio</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>All Benedict wants to do is to paint. All he actually does, however, is drink and go to his job at his family's cafe. His artistic fire might have burnt out, but he sure as hell isn't looking to use love to reignite it. Then a chance meeting with his baby sister's teacher, the painfully attractive Henry Granville, changes everything. Benedict's crush is instant, and even finding out that Henry has a perfectly nice boyfriend can't dampen his feelings. But he's determined not to threaten the happy home, so Benedict does his best to avoid Henry. Now if only Hyacinth would get on board and stop insisting he accompany her to every school-related event in her life, that would be great. And if Henry could stop coming by the cafe, stop being so charming, and stop looking at him like that, that would be even better. But since when do things work out the way Benedict wants?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anthony Bridgerton/Siena Rosso, Benedict Bridgerton/Henry Granville, Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Daphne Bridgerton/Simon Basset, Henry Granville/Lord Wetherby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>102</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>288</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As ever, thanks to my awesome parabatai @whosthathufflepuff for beta-ing, and the two other friends who gave this a read and offered such great feedback. Love you guys &lt;3<br/>Title comes from a Pablo Neruda poem, sonnet 46<br/>Come @ me on Tumblr: jean----ralphio<br/>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Having his eyelid peeled open so his youngest sister can peer down at him is not among the more pleasant ways by which Benedict Bridgerton has been awoken in his life. But it wasn’t the worst either – that honour still belonged to the fire alarm that had sent him pelting stark naked from his warm bed and out onto the snowy pavement during his last year at Uni.</p><p>Hyacinth’s little face is a far nicer sight than the smoke that had billowed from the windows of his building, too, even though her eyebrows are drawn together in consternation and she isn’t looking best pleased. Idly, Benedict muses that as much as he loves her, this sort of thing is exactly the reason why he’d very gleefully moved out. Sure, his apartment is tiny, and he can’t cook to save himself, but there are far fewer instances of sibling-related-wake-up-calls so overall it’s a win.</p><p>It takes Benedict a moment to gather his wits and pull free of her hands – his thumping head violently protests the movement and his desert-dry throat aches. Trying to keep control of the rising nausea that churns his stomach, he rubs his aching temples and takes stock of where he is.</p><p>He’s sprawled on the double bed of one of the spare rooms of his family home, still in last night’s clothes. The curtains are open because drunk!Benedict doesn’t have any forethought, and beautiful golden sunlight is streaming in through the windows. Benedict despises it.</p><p>“What are you doing, Hy?” he grumbles to his sister, in what he thinks is a perfectly normal sounding voice. The overall result however is more of a slurred moan than he’d care to admit.</p><p>Hyacinth looks decidedly unimpressed at his effort to communicate.</p><p>“What are you <em>doing</em>, Benedict? We’re late!”</p><p>“’M sleeping… Who’s late?” he croaks, not having the faintest idea what is going on – only pouring yourself through the door at 4am, utterly tanked, will do that to a man. He isn’t rostered on at the café today, and his life severely lacks any other element to it beyond work and drinking, so what is she talking about? He’s <em>moved out</em>, dammit.</p><p>“Gregory and me!” Hyacinth insists, and he winces at the pitch of her voice. “You’re supposed to take us to school, remember?”</p><p>No, Benedict isn’t aware of anything of the sort, and it must show in his face because she puts her hands on her hips and huffs at him.</p><p>“Ben-e-<em>dict</em>!”</p><p>Right. OK. Fuck.</p><p>“OK,” he mumbles out loud. “Ok, yeah. School? Right.”</p><p>Mother is still with Daphne, helping her cope with baby Alexander now that Simon has returned to work. Anthony is supposed to have been staying at the house the past few days to take care of the youngest Bridgertons, which of course means he’s doing nothing of the sort, and as usual it has somehow fallen to Benedict to take the reins of responsibility. Benedict knows for a fact that his older brother won’t make an appearance today – he disappeared last night with the singer from the bar they’d sequestered themselves in, as soon as her set had ended. Thankfully, Colin and Eloise both still live at home and seem to have been managing the children between them, up until now.</p><p>“You said you’d take us?” Hyacinth is getting anxious, starting to whine.</p><p>“Did I? When?” Benedict manages to sit up, but has to cling to the pillow he’d been hugging in his sleep until the world stops spinning quite so violently.</p><p>“Last night?! When you were vomiting in the kitchen sink and I came down to get a glass of water. Colin was supposed to, but he was sick too, so you said you would!”</p><p>Benedict was beginning to sense a vague recollection that something of the sort <em>may</em> have occurred – a hazy memory of last night, his baby sister’s face peering at him with the same concern as she was right now, while Colin pressed himself against the cold tile floor at his feet, groaning and too drunk to stand. Benedict had only meant to drop Colin home and then flee for the safety of his apartment before any sort of responsibility fell into his lap. Somehow that had turned into him becoming a taxi-service to the kids. Fuck his life.</p><p>“Fucking hell,” Benedict groans, before he drags himself up off the bed, forgoing his usual effort to now swear around the children. “OK. Alright. What time is it?”</p><p>“8:20.”</p><p>“What time is school?”</p><p>“8:30.”</p><p>“Fucking hell.”</p><p>Hyacinth has gotten herself dressed, at least, and she promises, as he staggers down the hallway in her wake, that she and Gregory have both eaten breakfast. Benedict shoos her on ahead to get her bag packed and pokes his head into Colin’s room. He’s out like a light and still looks drunk, even in sleep.</p><p><em>Lucky for some</em>, Benedict thinks, as makes his way down the stairs, clutching at the bannister and wincing as the noise of Gregory’s PlayStation assaults his ears.</p><p>His youngest brother is hunched over his controller, a half-eaten bowl of Cocopops on the coffee table in front of him, eyes intent on the TV screen.</p><p>“Turn that off,” Benedict mutters to him, as urgency finally kicks him into gear. He throws items from the pantry at random into their lunchboxes, then chivvies Hyacinth into getting her school shoes on.</p><p>He has the presence of mind to down a glass of water and change his t-shirt, discarding his own, which reeks of sweat and beer, in favour of pinching one of Colin’s from the clean pile of laundry Eloise had left on the dining table before she’d left for work earlier in the morning. It was far too tight for Benedict, but whatever.</p><p>Gregory only puts down his controller when Benedict unplugs the TV at the wall, and he is still howling in rage with all the anger his 8-but-almost-9-year-old body can contain when Benedict shoves his backpack into his arms and pushes him out the front door.</p><p>Benedict is glancing around in a mad panic, trying to see if he’s missed anything even though he doesn’t have the faintest idea what kids need for school these days, when the house phone starts trilling. He ignores it. They’re already late, and he isn’t about to make them even later just for a telemarketer.</p><p>He yells for Hyacinth, who’d run upstairs to brush her teeth, and grabs Colin’s car-keys and sunglasses from the table by the door before he follows her out into the disgustingly bright day.</p><p>Benedict would never dream of driving his baby siblings while – if he is honest – still fucking hammered, under any other circumstances. But there is no way Colin wasn’t in a far worse state back home, and Eloise has been at the café for hours now already. With Francesca away at boarding school and Anthony off doing God knows what how many times with the singer, there is really nothing else for it.</p><p>Gregory sulks in the backseat the whole ride to school, not that Benedict cares. Hyacinth chatters away next to Benedict, and he doesn’t care too much about that either. He’s having enough trouble trying to get used to Colin’s stupid car, which is ludicrously heavy to operate, while keeping control of his pitching stomach at the same time. The sunglasses are helping his sore eyes, but when Benedict glances at his reflection in the rearview mirror, he sees his skin is as stark-white as Colin’s t-shirt, though his face is distinctly green.</p><p>Pulling into the drop off bay of the school is a blessing, and as Benedict hands Hyacinth her school bag out the passenger door, he sends a silent prayer of thanks to the powers that be for allowing him to get them here safely, then wonders if anyone would mind him vomiting into the gutter. It’s London; nothing’s truly unusual in London.</p><p>But even though it’s now well after 9am, Gregory and Hyacinth both just stand on the pavement, staring at him reproachfully and not making any move to go inside the school grounds.</p><p>“What,” Benedict asks, running a hand through his already disarrayed hair.</p><p>“We’re late. So you have to sign us in,” Hyacinth explains, pointing at a building he’s apparently meant to take them to.</p><p>“For fuck’s sake, all I want to do is throw up and go back to bed,” Benedict grumbles, but he slides out of the car, slamming the door far too hard then immediately regretting it when the reverberation hurts his head.</p><p>The reception area is, mercifully, blasting the air-con, and Benedict signs off on the multiple sheets of paper bearing the kids’ names that an unimpressed looking woman shoves under his nose. Gregory goes pelting off without a goodbye once Benedict hands back the last of the papers, so he assumes that means that the whole ordeal is over at last and gives Hyacinth a quick pat on the back in farewell.</p><p>Of course, that’s when her usually bright and happy nature promptly deserts his sister entirely. With a wail, she pitches herself at him, winding her arms in a vice grip around his waist.</p><p>“Don’t go!”</p><p>She only came over shy like this when she was embarrassed, and given that it’s his fault that she has to now walk into class very late, he takes pity and drops down to his knees to talk to her.</p><p>“It’s alright, Hy, you’re here now! And I’ll be back at 3:30 to pick you up.”</p><p>“The school day ends at 3,” the snooty receptionist informs him, from where she watches them judgmentally from her perch at her desk.</p><p>Benedict ignores her. “3, then. Hyacinth, I promise I’ll be on time.”</p><p>But she’s not having it, won’t raise her face to look at him, just pushes herself tighter into his chest. Sighing, Benedict straightens up and lifts her up onto his hip, school bag and all, the way she hasn’t let him carry her since she was about 4.</p><p>“I’ll take you to your class and explain to your teacher, then, come on,” he mumbles to her, and she grudgingly tells him directions with her face still tucked against his collarbone.</p><p>After wending down corridors and between various buildings, Benedict eventually taps on the open door of a classroom Hyacinth points to. Colin’s sunglasses are askew against her hair, and he knows he must look ridiculous, and slightly deranged, as he tries once more to put her down. He’s just unpeeling her knee from his waist when a devastatingly attractive man appears in the doorway. Benedict can only stare, stunned into breathlessness.</p><p>The man is plainly dressed in dark trousers and a plum-coloured shirt, brown hair neatly coiffed. Suspicious dark eyes rove over Benedict, taking in the too-tight shirt pinching at his chest, shoulders and biceps, the sunglasses even though they’re inside, and his brow creases a little as if concerned. Then he looks at Hyacinth and his shoulders slump with palpable relief. He offers her a kind smile when she shyly peeks up him from her brother’s neck.</p><p>“Hyacinth, I’m so glad you’re alright! I was getting worried.”</p><p>“Am I in trouble?”</p><p>The man’s face softens even further. “No, of course not! I was just worried about you, it’s alright now I know you’re safe. Come on, in you come.”</p><p>With that she practically leaps out of Benedict’s arms and darts through the door. The man – obviously her teacher – lays a hand on her head in greeting as she passes him, then directs her over to a table of screechy children and turns back to Benedict.</p><p>“I was concerned. It’s almost 9:30,” the man is saying, and why the hell hadn’t Hyacinth told him her teacher was so bloody good-looking? “I called your house a few times, but there was no answer.”</p><p>“My mother’s house,” Benedict can’t help but correct, before he remembers himself and turns the Bridgerton charm up to full volume. He steps in a little closer and lets his body incline towards the man’s as he peels off Colin’s sunglasses at last. “Sorry. It’s my fault, our mother is out of town. I overslept.”</p><p>“Evidently, she’s almost an hour late, and you look as though you could use 10 more hours of sleep,” the polite smile turns into a smirk, and God damn it, Benedict forgot he must look as rough as he felt.</p><p>“You must be Anthony?” The man says, offering a hand to shake. His palm is warm, and his fingers are long. “I’m Henry Granville. Mr. Granville, to Hyacinth.”</p><p>“I’m Benedict, actually. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Henry. But if you’ve mistaken me for Anthony, I must be losing ground in the battle to be proclaimed her favorite brother.”</p><p>“She talks about all of you! It took a little while to work you all out. Ah, I only know that Anthony is the oldest and makes blueberry pancakes on weekends. To be fair, I’m pretty sure her favourite is Colin,” Henry’s smirk is now an all-out grin.</p><p>“Colin’s everyone’s favourite,” Benedict allows.</p><p>“If you like, I can try to champion your case? All I know about you, however, is that she says you draw pretty pictures and still give her piggy-back rides. The other two have stopped, you see.”</p><p>“An MA in Fine Arts, and that’s the highest praise I’ve ever had of my work,” Benedict murmurs, liking the way Henry’s eyes dance. “Perhaps I’ll bring her ice-cream for dinner tonight, while Mum’s not around to stop me.”</p><p>“Don’t say that too loudly,” Henry shoots a look over his shoulder at his class, who are growing rowdier in his absence. “Or you’ll have 20 kids on your doorstep armed with bowls and spoons.”</p><p>“Colin will have 20 kids on <em>his </em>doorstep,” Benedict corrects. “I’ll just make sure Hyacinth gets the biggest helping, then go home to my apartment to eat ramen on my couch in my underwear like usual.”</p><p>Henry laughs, and it’s a rich, wonderful sound, until a resounding crash in the room behind him has his hurtling back inside with a howl of “Gareth St. Clair, get down from there this instant!”</p><p>Benedict is just in time to wave goodbye to Hyacinth before the door swings shut and grins as he makes his way back to the car. The parking ticket on the windshield dampens his mood, until he decides Colin’s car means it’s Colin’s ticket.</p><p>He’s waiting at a set of lights halfway home before he finally breaks and sends a text to his best friend, Genevieve.</p><p>
  <em>Hottest-guy-I’ve-ever-fucking-seen alert, this is not a drill</em>
</p><p>She calls him immediately, and he puts his phone on speaker and lays in the console so he can recount the whole ridiculous meet-cute while he drives.</p><p>“But he’s Hyacinth’s teacher,” Benedict wails to her, after he’s composed sonnets to Henry’s eyes, his charm, his fucking <em>fingers</em>.</p><p>“Oh,” Gen huffs, unperturbed. “Hyacinth won’t be his student forever, mon chéri, have faith!”</p><p>After they’ve hung up, he whistles as he pulls into Mum’s driveway and plays Henry’s answering machine message from the house phone while he cooks Colin a round of bacon and eggs for breakfast, exhilarated by the warm voice as he brews coffee and hollers up the stairs for his brother.</p><p>“You’re my favorite,” Colin croaks at him when he shuffles down to eat, looking like death and clad in nothing but his underwear and a sheet he’s wrapped around his shoulders like a cape.</p><p>Benedict drinks his coffee with a smirk and very pointedly does not mention the parking ticket.</p><p>*</p><p>Benedict’s outside the school gates at 2:59pm and is trying not to feel too smug about being on time. After going home for more sleep, a shower, and clean clothes, he’s finally feeling hydrated and a bit more human. His thoughts have remained permanently fixated on his encounter with Henry for the whole day, and he knows that’s a part of why he feels so good too.</p><p>All the other parents and child-minders are shooting him glances, so he’s trying to act low-key. He assumes he’s attracting attention because he’s a new face amongst the assembly of guardians, though a few of the side-eye looks rove over his body too, and, OK, <em>maybe</em> he’s a little too dressed up?</p><p>Compared to the athleisure most of the other adults are wearing, his black skinny jeans and sky-blue shirt are a little out of place. And he <em>might</em> have spent half an hour styling his hair. And he’s wearing the cologne Daphne bought him for Christmas. But so what? These people don’t know him, don’t know that he usually slums about in the old, baggy clothes that are trademarks of an artist, and often goes days on end without even bothering to comb his hair. Or leave his apartment. They don’t know he’s making an effort. And they certainly don’t know why.</p><p><em>You’re not going to see him</em>, Benedict tells himself, starting to feel a bit stupid. He’s glad he’d kept Colin sunglasses, so that his eyes are hidden, and people can’t see his expression of desperation. <em>There’s no reason why a teacher would come out to the gate, so just. Stop.</em></p><p>The children start to pour out onto the pavement, and Benedict focuses on keeping his eyes peeled for his siblings, rather than paying any attention to his mounting nerves.</p><p>He alleviates some of his tension by sticking out a foot to trip his little brother, who’s so absorbed in staring down at a Nintendo Switch Benedict didn’t even know he owned, that he walks right past him. Gregory yelps and stumbles, and Benedict grabs holds of his backpack to keep him from actually falling.</p><p>“What did you do that for?!” Gregory scowls up at him, and Benedict plucks the console from his hand.</p><p>“Watch where you’re walking, and I wouldn’t have had to!”</p><p>Gregory huffs and leaps for Benedict’s arm to try and reclaim his game, but Benedict holds him off with a hand planted on his forehead.</p><p>“How was your day?” Benedict tries to distract him, before giving one last push to keep him at bay. Gregory just shrugs, not caring, still eyeing the Nintendo mulishly.</p><p>Benedict rolls his eyes – surely his baby brother was still a few years away from mono-syllabic teenage boy? – and goes back to peering at the hordes of children, looking for Hyacinth.</p><p>“You smell weird,” Gregory sees fit to inform him, at the same time as Benedict spots their sister, walking through the gates. Henry is next to her, her hand safe in his as he guides her through the throng.</p><p>Fuck.</p>
<ol>
<li>
Unexpected. But you wanted this, Benedict tells himself firmly, trying not to blush and focusing on keeping his breathing normal as he moves to meet them, pulling Gregory along by the elbow. <em>You wanted to see him again.</em>
</li>
</ol><p>He hadn’t actually thought that he would, though. The little bit of flirting this morning had been, potentially, all in his imagination. There had been nothing to indicate Henry was really interested in him in any way beyond his role as a guardian to Hyacinth; not even his appearance now at Hyacinth’s side meant anything. Of greater concern was why Hyacinth was being escorted out by her teacher at all.</p><p>She looks fine, but Benedict scoops her up into his arms anyway when he reaches them and drags Gregory closer to his side to keep him out of the way when a troop of mothers, prams, children, and dogs on leads pass by.</p><p>Gregory steals his Nintendo back from Benedict’s hand with a gleeful cry at his first opportunity but tucks it into his school bag after a long look from Henry.</p><p>“You know the rules about gaming consoles on school grounds, Mr. Bridgerton.”</p><p>“Yes, Sir.”</p><p>Henry fixes Gregory with a brief smile, then turns back to Benedict with an apologetic shrug.</p><p>Benedict can’t keep the nervousness from his voice. “Mr. Granville, is everything alright? Is she OK?”</p><p>“She’s fine, everything’s fine,” Henry reassures him, at the same time as Hyacinth crows, “Benedict, you’re in trouble!”</p><p>“Sorry to ambush you,” Henry carries on. “And no, you’re <em>not</em> in trouble.”</p><p>“That’s a shame,” is out of Benedict’s mouth before he can stop himself. He then very promptly goes pink. “I, uh…”</p><p>The children remain oblivious, but Henry smirks, his eyes twinkling.</p><p>“Benedict, I just wanted to have a quick word with you about the contents of Hyacinth’s lunch. Three chocolate bars and a packet of sherbet lemons aren’t quite appropriate for a growing 7-year-old, wouldn’t you agree?”</p><p>“Ah. Fuck,” Benedict hisses, then slaps his hand over his mouth with a wide-eyed look of guilt at his sister. He <em>really</em> needs to stop swearing around the kids.</p><p>Gregory is livid.</p><p>“Three chocolate bars?! HOW COME HYACINTH GOT THREE CHOCOLATE BARS?! ALL I GOT WAS A BAG OF CRISPS!”</p><p>Benedict can only gape down at his brother helplessly, while Hyacinth pokes her tongue out and laughs at him.</p><p>“Just a gentle reminder,” Henry touches the back of Benedict’s wrist to regain his attention, his eyes bright with amusement. “Perhaps their food can be prepared in advance tonight? So that there are less… novelty items… making appearances in their lunchboxes tomorrow?”</p><p>“Yesterday Eloise gave me a whole tin of cookies!” Hyacinth reports, to Gregory’s continued chagrin.</p><p>“She’s been trialling new flavours for the café,” Benedict starts to explain, then cuts himself off and offers Henry a wide smile. “I’m very sorry we’ve been so lax. I’ll talk to my siblings and get it dealt with.”</p><p>“I want a chocolate bar!” Gregory whines.</p><p>“No way. It’s nothing but veggies for the two of you until Mum gets back. Don’t want you catching scurvy, do we? You know what scurvy is? You get this disgusting rash all over you…”</p><p>They both begin to screech in disgust, and Benedict is swiftly kicked hard in the knee by his sister before he can put her down. By the time he’s disentangled himself from Hyacinth, Henry is laughing, a hand over his mouth.</p><p>“You do realise you’ve now absolutely scuppered your chances to be her favourite?”</p><p>“They’ll both hate me forever,” Benedict agrees, glancing down as the children get completely distracted by a passing bulldog. Cooing, they seem to decide petting him is far more interesting than attacking their brother any further, thankfully.</p><p>“I thought Colin and Eloise had things under control,” Benedict turns back to Henry, feeling guilty. “But they’re both still in Uni, and work part-time, so looking after two under-10s as well is perhaps expecting too much. I’ll crash in the spare room and help them out for a few days, keep a closer eye on things.”</p><p>“That sounds like a good idea. I’m sure your couch and underwear will miss you, though.”</p><p>Henry departs with a smile and a wink before Benedict can even start to form a coherent response.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is brought to you by my amazing betas and Felicia Day and Tom Lenk's Bridgerton podcast, specifically the part where they talk about wisteria.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Benedict is a Master of Fine Arts (with high distinction, might he add) courtesy of fucking Bath Spa University… and his degree is currently used for one thing in his life and one thing only. Making pictures in the milk foam of the coffees he prepares at <em>Wisteria</em>, his family’s café.</p><p>Sure, the work is so second-nature now that it’s easy and as the manager, Benedict takes about a billion liberties a day, but honestly? Fuck his life.</p><p><em>Fuck</em> his life.</p><p>It’s a beautiful Spring Saturday morning in March, but rather than being outside enjoying the fresh air and sunshine, Benedict has instead just spent ten minutes re-making the same drink over and over for a fussy customer.</p><p>He pops the lid on the fourth version of the weirdly complicated latte she’s requested and hands it over to her with a feigned smile.</p><p>She takes a discerning sip, makes a face and shrugs before turning away and heading toward the door.</p><p>“Have a wonderful day,” he calls after her through gritted teeth.</p><p>His smile only drops once the bell above the blue farmhouse-style door has signalled its closing, and he’s free to go back to glowering at the only other customers presently in the café; four of his seven siblings, who are all lounging in the booth by the bay window.</p><p>Anthony, who’s supposed to be going over the accounts while Mum is down in Hastings, instead reclines across a bench seat like it’s a couch, with Hyacinth perched on his legs. Colin and Gregory are opposite them, the youngest Bridgerton boy tapping away at whichever brother’s phone it is that he’s pinched, and Colin reading a guidebook on Greece.</p><p>Anthony catches Benedict’s eye before Benedict can get back to filling up the watering can – the white and purple flowers in the hanging baskets outside are looking very forlorn.</p><p>“Make me a triple-shot hazelnut latte, would you?” Anthony calls to him.</p><p>“No,” Benedict replies.</p><p>Gregory, ever in awe of the eldest Bridgerton (Benedict had given up the favourite-brother-war for <em>his</em> affections years ago), takes up Anthony’s cause.</p><p>“Benedict, make me a fluffy please!” he calls out gleefully, naming the only item on the menu that he knew.</p><p>“No. But thank you for saying please.”</p><p>“Do you know,” Colin’ tone is thoughtful with sudden realization. “I’ve never actually had a fluffy.”</p><p>“I’m not making you a fluffy, fuck off.”</p><p>“I’ll make one for you, Colin!” Penelope chirps. She finishes cleaning down the coffee machine, wipes her hands on her blue apron and scurries to grab a mug from behind Benedict.</p><p>Colin beams at her, his whole face lighting up, while Benedict exchanges an eye-roll with Anthony.</p><p>The whole family adore Penelope, and Benedict would never mock her, but Christ it couldn’t be any more obvious unless she tattooed I Love You Colin Bridgerton on her face. Also keeping Benedict silent is the fact that Pen is Eloise’ beloved best friend, and if his sister caught any whiff of him laughing at her she’d come exploding out of the kitchen and beat him to death with a rolling pin. She’d enjoy it, too.</p><p>Anthony evidently decides that teasing Benedict is much more fun, anyway.</p><p>“That’s horrid customer service, Benedict! I ought to fire you for your insubordination.”</p><p>“Go fuck yourself,” Benedict deadpans back with a smile, at the exact same moment as Henry Granville walks through the café door.</p><p>Benedict heart skips a beat, two beats, as their gazes meet. They stare at each other for a long moment, Henry blinking in surprise and Benedict’s jaw on the floor. Henry’s plainly dressed in just jeans and a grey t-shirt, his hair curling a little around his temples without any product to hold it up.</p><p>“Henry!”</p><p>“Benedict?” Henry’s eyes flick from him over to Anthony, having clearly heard their exchange.</p><p>Benedict scrambles to explain himself.</p><p>“It’s OK, he’s my brother! I’d never swear at a customer…” he trails off helplessly. Anthony face-palms as Hyacinth clambers up to kneel on his leg to see who the newcomer is.</p><p>“Mr. Granville!” she screams in a pitch so high there must be dogs howling out in the street, before she scrambles over the back of the booth, kneeing Anthony in the stomach in the process. Deservedly.</p><p>“Hello, Hyacinth!” Henry lays a hand on her curls and smiles down at her once she’s bouncing on her toes at his side. “So, this must be your family’s café?”</p><p>Hyacinth nods excitedly. “Yes! Mummy owns it, but Anthony likes to pretend that <em>he </em>owns it!” She points out the eldest Bridgerton, who bolts upright with a squawk of indignation, his head whipping in her direction.</p><p>“My sister Eloise does the cookies,” Hyacinth carries on, as Penelope bustles past her to deliver Colin his drink. “And that’s Penelope, she does all the other work. Benedict stands at the counter and makes faces at people when they’re not looking, and he does the pictures on the drinks! But I’m not allowed to touch them because Mummy says they’re hot. And I’m not allowed to go behind the counter or in the kitchen, because Benedict says I’ll cause a ruckus and he’ll be the one made to clean it up!” All of this is imparted to Henry at rapid speed, but he seems perfectly adept at keeping up, smiling down at her fondly as she chatters.</p><p>“Now, I’m sure your brother does more than just pictures.”</p><p>“Not really,” Anthony pronounces loudly. Benedict gives him the finger while Hyacinth’s back is turned.</p><p>Henry hides a smile behind his hand, his eyes sliding from Benedict back to Anthony.</p><p>“And are these your other brothers, Hyacinth?”</p><p>“Yes, that’s Anthony, and that’s Colin. And that’s Gregory, but you already know him.”</p><p>Anthony has the grace to stand and shake Henry’s hand, while Colin, blocked in by Gregory, offers him a wave and a smile. He then takes a sip of his drink before he nudges the younger boy in the ribs.</p><p>“Say hello to Hyacinth’s teacher, Gregory.”</p><p>“Hi Mr. Granville,” Gregory murmurs distractedly, without looking up from the phone, which he’s been playing Pokémon Go on since he’d arrived.</p><p>Colin’s sudden exclamation of, “What the fuck, this is just milk!” halts any further conversation. He’s staring down at his mug in disgust.</p><p>“That’s what a fluffy is, you idiot,” Benedict tells him, just as a young man comes sweeping in.</p><p>The newcomer casts about before his eyes find Henry, and they smile at each other, obviously here together. Benedict’s heart starts to sink.</p><p>“Hi, what can I get you?” he calls to the man, trying to keep his tone friendly.</p><p>The man turns to him and approaches the counter. He’s almost too attractive to look at, with chestnut coloured hair, blue eyes, and fair skin.</p><p>With a polite smile to Benedict, he calls, “What did you want, darling?” to Henry.</p><p>The disappointment very nearly crushes Benedict’s soul, tightening in his throat like a fist, and he has to take a shuddered breath that he hopes is quieter than it sounds in his ear.</p><p>Henry glances over from where Hyacinth’s been showing him one of Benedict’s paintings on the wall, the wisteria covered doorway of the family home, purple sprigs in full bloom.</p><p>“A cappuccino, please.”</p><p>“Make that two,” the man smiles at Benedict again, none the wiser to how quickly he’d decimated his heart.</p><p>“Coming right up,” Benedict is grateful for the excuse to turn away from everyone and busy himself with the machine. He can feel Penelope watching him. Anthony too.</p><p>“This is Hyacinth, one of my students. This is her family’s café, isn’t that lovely? And these are her brothers, Anthony, Colin, Gregory, and Benedict,” Henry’s voice is closer, he must have joined his boyfriend (Husband? Fiancé?) at the counter, but Benedict can’t bring himself to turn.</p><p>“Benedict? Why does that name sound familiar? Oh! The one you were telling me about, who gave the little one a chocolate bar for her lunch?”</p><p>“You WHAT?!” Anthony howls, springing up from the booth to stare Benedict down, chest puffed up with self-righteous anger.</p><p>“I didn’t get any!” Gregory remembers the injustice, abandoning his pilfered phone at last to beseech his oldest brother. “Anthony, Hyacinth got <em>three</em>, and I didn’t even get <em>one</em>!”</p><p>“Three?! Benedict!!”</p><p>“I wouldn’t mind a chocolate bar, actually,” Colin muses, draining the last of his fluffy and taking the chance to steal what must be his phone back from the tabletop.</p><p>“The caramel cupcakes have mini-Twix bars on them,” Penelope tells him, as she takes the payment from Henry’s Hot Boyfriend, helpful as ever.</p><p>Benedict stares back over his shoulder at the plethora of people all gabbling at once and wonders how everything has gotten this chaotic so fast.</p><p>“What the ever-loving fuck is even going on right now,” he grouses, pouring the coffees and waving aside Henry’s Hot Boyfriend’s gasped apology for getting him in trouble with Anthony.</p><p>“It’s fine,” Benedict insists to him, as he draws a flower in the foam of one of the cappuccinos, and a music note on another. “It raised my ranking in Hyacinth’s favourite brother stakes, Anthony can yell all he likes, it’s worth it. Also, I literally don’t care what Anthony says.”</p><p>“Benedict,” Eloise pronounces, as she sweeps out of the kitchen with a tray of fresh brownies, her hair in disarray and flour on her cheek. “Don’t be ridiculous. <em>I’m </em>Hyacinth’s favourite.”</p><p>“Not her favourite <em>brother</em>, though,” Benedict points out, making a face at her and smiling despite himself at the sound of Henry’s rich laughter.</p><p>“I look better than all four of you in a suit.”</p><p>Benedict concedes her the point, then turns back to Henry’s Hot Boyfriend.</p><p>“Assuming we haven’t traumatized you both into leaving, please feel free to grab a seat, and I’ll bring these over to you.”</p><p>“I teach 7-year-olds for a living,” Henry reminds him, as he leads his Hot Boyfriend to a table by the far wall. “So far you’re all exceptionally well-behaved, by comparison.”</p><p>“No, you want to watch out for Benedict,” Eloise insists, as she and Penelope smirk at each other and start loading the brownies into the display case at the counter. “He’s trouble.”</p><p>“I’m an <em>angel</em>,” Benedict insists, placing the cappuccinos onto a tray and following the couple.</p><p>“I think I will have that cupcake,” Colin muses out loud, to no one in particular.</p><p>“You can pay for it, like everyone else,” Benedict tells him as he passes. “<em>You</em> don’t work here.”</p><p>“You barely do, either,” Anthony spits, lifting Hyacinth back down onto his lap to keep her from following Henry.</p><p>Benedict ignores Anthony entirely and sets the drinks down in front of Henry and his Hot Boyfriend. “Apologies for my family. I swear we’re not usually this lax in front of customers.”</p><p>“I think it’s delightful!” Henry’s Hot Boyfriend smiles.</p><p>“We’ve just moved to a new flat around the corner, thought we’d come out exploring,” Henry tells Benedict, wrapping his fingers around one of the mugs. “What a charming coincidence to come across you here. Hyacinth never told me the name of your café, but she talks about it all the time.”</p><p>“She’ll inherit it one day, probably, if she wants it,” Benedict shrugs. “Anthony would run it into the ground in five minutes and Colin wouldn’t like being a business owner; Daph’s already beyond happy with her husband and her baby, Eloise’s heart is set on writing and Francesca’s on music; and Gregory would hate not being able to stare at a screen.”</p><p>“What about you?” Henry asks, smiling up at Benedict with something of a challenge in his eyes.</p><p>“Me? Oh, no. This is just an income to keep me stocked with ramen. And art supplies.”</p><p>“Did you do these, then?” Henry’s Hot Boyfriend gestures to the artwork Henry had been looking at of the wisteria, and then up at the one they’re sitting under, Daphne’s wedding dress hanging in front of an open window, the morning light spilling around it.</p><p>“Ah, yes,” Benedict fights down a blush. “Most of these pieces are from my exhibition series for my Masters degree. All from my sister’s wedding day.”</p><p>He doesn’t tell them he hasn’t painted since, that all his inspiration and passion and love for it has run dry; he can’t seem to put brush to canvas, or even pencil to paper, nowadays, and can’t fathom why.</p><p>“How lovely!”</p><p>“Very nice work,” Henry commends him. “Beautiful textures.”</p><p>Henry’s Hot Boyfriend grins proudly. “He’s an artist too, you know!”</p><p>“I teach in order to keep myself stocked with art supplies and wine,” Henry smirks, echoing Benedict’s previous statement. “Don’t get me wrong, my students are a delight, but I know what I would far rather be doing.”</p><p>Tearing his eyes away from the overwhelming tenderness in Henry’s gaze, Benedict nods and takes a step back from the table.</p><p>“Well, pleasure to have you both here and let me know if there’s anything else I can get for you,” he tells them, before he departs for the safety of the empty kitchen.</p><p>He stumbles to the back by the ovens and clutches the counter for support, fingers tight and tense, barely noticing the mess of cocoa powder and flour Eloise has left in her wake.</p><p>The sister in question gives him about two minutes before she pounces, literally springing through the door and advancing on him.</p><p>“That’s him, isn’t it? That’s the guy?! The guy you haven’t shut up about since last week? Hyacinth’s teacher?”</p><p>“Yes,” Benedict mutters, rubbing at his eyes and feeling too much, too sore, too shocked, too aggrieved, all at once.</p><p>“Oh, Benedict,” she sounds so sorry, and he can’t stand it.</p><p>“It’s nothing,” he insists, pasting a cheery smile onto his face as she tries to reach for him. “Nothing at all. He’s got a boyfriend. A really nice boyfriend. A really nice, hot boyfriend. So, it’s nothing.”</p><p>“Benedict,” Eloise tries again, her blue eyes wide and sad, but he waves her aside and heads back out to the counter. His siblings are bickering again; or rather, Hyacinth and Gregory are at war with each other, one shrieking and the other squealing, as Anthony struggles to keep the peace and Colin eats his cupcake.</p><p>“Hyacinth, that’s not a very nice thing to say,” Henry calls out, interrupting Hyacinth’s passionate assessment of all the ways Gregory looks like a beaver, for some reason. She shuts up immediately.</p><p>“God, that’s amazing,” Anthony murmurs, before he leans over the back of the booth to get Henry’s attention. “Can we keep you? Can you come round and referee them at breakfast time on Sundays?”</p><p>“Is that when the blueberry pancakes get made?” Henry asks, smiling into his mug.</p><p>“The one successful weapon in my arsenal,” Anthony confirms gloomily. “I’m afraid her heart belongs to Colin.”</p><p>Colin grins but doesn’t deny it, as he brazenly lets Hyacinth have a fingerful of icing from his cupcake.</p><p>“I think Benedict’s the dark horse of the race, to be honest,” Henry notices his return and grins at him.</p><p>“A fitting analogy,” Benedict fakes a joviality he sure as fuck doesn’t feel and keeps up the charade of good humour until the couple leave, fifteen minutes later.</p><p>Once the door shuts behind them, he lets his head thunk down onto the counter, and accepts a consoling pat on the back from Penelope.</p><p>Fuck his life.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much for all the comments and support.<br/>The name for Lord Wetherby was inspired by the amazing fic here on AO3 'Oils on Canvas,' by Sospes. Read it right now, it's perfection.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fate is a bitch. Benedict is fully accepting of that fact. But did she really have to smack him over the head repeatedly with the excruciating pain of crossing paths as frequently as he seems to with Henry Granville?</p>
<p>Benedict fights against his desire to be around Henry; his instincts scream at him to seek Henry out in the month following their first meeting at the classroom door, like a desperate moth drawn to very attractive, long-fingered, charming flame. But he perseveres against his need, even though it aches.</p>
<p>He keeps far, far away from the school, and resolutely does not so much as think about Henry when he’s around Hyacinth, lest she suddenly develop the power to read his mind or hear his thoughts somehow and figure out how he feels. He discourages any of her near-constant hero-worshipping-prattle about her teacher, too, slyly changing topics or distracting her, even though he longs for any mention of Henry.</p>
<p>Benedict goes so far as to hide under the kitchen counter one evening at the family home when Eloise and Anthony are trying to figure out who is best placed to collect Hyacinth from her after-school art class (taught by Henry, because of fucking course it is) the following afternoon. Eloise, who knew he was there the whole time, waits for Anthony to leave before she laughs at Benedict.</p>
<p>“You are so FUCKED!” she howls, wiping tears from her eyes as he climbs up off the floor.</p>
<p>And yes, OK, fine, but really, does she need to be that bloody gleeful about it? Benedict has a long think about his life, and his lack of dignity, that night.</p>
<p>Overall, he’s quite certain his tactics of avoidance and denial would be working <em>great </em>if Henry would stop seeking <em>him</em>. Only Henry didn’t seem to get that memo.</p>
<p>The problem, at its crux, is that Henry’s somehow kind of become Benedict’s friend.</p>
<p>Over the course of the month of May, Henry drops by the café more and more, sometimes with Hot Boyfriend – who it turns out is an events planner named Hugh – but more often alone. He calls in on the way to work, practically prostrating himself begging for caffeine and sugar; he pops by on his way home, expression both worn out and fond, for herbal tea and a scone; he comes in at the weekends, dressed down and relaxed, trading banter with Benedict from the table nearest the counter, as Eloise plies him with her latest baking experiments and Benedict makes sure he makes his coffee just perfect and draws stupid doodles in the foam.</p>
<p>It’s not just the café though. Benedict, who also lives in the area, starts seeing Henry <em>everywhere</em>. At the grocery store buying expensive cheese and fancy wine while Benedict is stocking up on beer and crisps; at the park walking his dog while Benedict’s jogging to try and work off the beer and the crisps; and once at one of Genevieve’s parties, when he walks in arm in arm with Lucy, Gen’s new roommate. Henry always beams and comes straight over to Benedict when he spots him, oblivious to the wild staccato of hope and fear that his heart is beating against his throat.</p>
<p>And Benedict… Benedict can’t help it, OK? Despite Eloise’ pointed throat clearing and Penelope’s giggles and Gen’s completely unsubtle elbow to his ribcage, Benedict can’t help but gravitate to Henry’s orbit once he sees him. The avoidance, the denial, the lying to himself are possible, but not once Henry’s actually in view, or Benedict hears his voice, his laughter. When he’s actually with Henry, he’s done for, the battle lost.</p>
<p>He sits at Henry’s table with him when he’s on break at the café, trading smiles and stories over coffee and Eloise’s really bloody delicious apricot danishes. He hangs out with him at the park too, too, gulping from his water bottle as Matisse the bulldog snuffles around his ankles and the breeze whips colour into Henry’s cheeks. They unwittingly block the entry to the coffee aisle at the supermarket when they get caught up discussing Hieronymus Bosch (Henry’s a fanboy, but Benedict thinks his work is just fucking <em>weird</em> and won’t be budged.) At Genevieve’s party, they spend the whole evening in each other’s company, sharing wine and gossip and laughter. It’s… yeah.</p>
<p>Benedict is fucked.</p>
<p>Therefore, it’s a palpable relief to him when Hugh is with Henry, because on those occasions he’s so disgusted and horrified with himself for how he feels about Henry that avoiding them, keeping them both at arm’s length, is very easy. With Hugh there to play the role of very solid, very attractive, buffer, Benedict can shove his feelings down into the depths of his heart where the disgrace is the thickest, weighed down under the sense of danger that sits like a stone.</p>
<p>The truth is the severity of his crush on Henry disturbs Benedict on a level that’s so intrinsic it’s almost palpable.</p>
<p>Benedict, for all his guilt and shame, exists for the moments he’s with Henry. The older man is kind but coy, witty but subtle, relaxed and friendly and openly honest. Just clapping eyes on him coming through the café door, whether he’s windswept from gales or damp from rain, smiling softly or looking stressed, sends Benedict’s heart catapulting about his body, his nerves alight with excitement.</p>
<p>They flirt with each other just the tiniest bit, Benedict unable to help himself, Henry not seeming to consider it a problem; loaded conversations rife with teased implications… then Henry goes home to Hugh, and Benedict feels sick from shame and remorse.</p>
<p>Every encounter makes Benedict feel… <em>more</em>… than he ever has with anyone else, even Genevieve, who’s dragged him into and out of all the worst lows and best highs in his life so far.</p>
<p>Without art by which to express himself – despite the soaring of his soul with every encounter he has with Henry, that fountain remained dry – Benedict turns to his vice with increasing frequency. It’s certainly not the healthiest coping mechanism for his dashed hopes, but he throws himself head-first into it with gusto, because what else can he do?</p>
<p>“I really shouldn’t be encouraging this,” Anthony complains one evening when he and Colin are slumped together on the grey beanbag on Benedict’s living room floor, watching Genevieve pour them all entirely too-large glasses of pear flavoured vodka.</p>
<p>“Fuck off, then,” Benedict mutters to him as he drains about half of his own glass in one mouthful, very much not in the mood for Anthony’s morose dramatics (<em>another</em> break up with Siena the night before had seen him moping and sulking all day).</p>
<p>“You do seem to be drinking quite often, lately,” Colin considers, taking a sip of the drink and making a face at its potency.</p>
<p>Benedict collapses back on his couch and snaps, “So? So what?”</p>
<p>“Do they know why?” Genevieve asks, topping Benedict’s glass up before she settles back next to him and eyes his brothers consideringly.</p>
<p>“They’re too dumb to figure anything out on their own unless they’re beaten over the head with it. Or Eloise tells them. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”</p>
<p>“It’s quite <em>clearly</em> to do with Henry Granville,” Anthony pronounces, looking so proud of himself for knowing that it’s actually a bit sad.</p>
<p>“It doesn’t matter,” Benedict tries again, feigning interest in his glass, not wanting to see the confusion on Colin’s face, the sympathy in Gen’s eyes, the smirk twisting Anthony’s lips. His voice is unconvincing even to his own ears.</p>
<p>Genevieve’s comforting pat on his thigh does little to help.</p>
<p>“It’s nothing, OK? I happened to meet him, thought he was fit, and funny, and smart, and a great guy. We had some good banter. Then it turned out he has a boyfriend. So, it’s fine. It’s nothing. We’re friends. It doesn’t matter. Nipped in the bud. It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m not <em>in love</em> <em>with him</em> or anything. We’re just friends. He comes into the café, we chat, we hang out a bit. It’s nothing. It’s fine.”</p>
<p>“Do we think,” Anthony says slowly, appearing to choose his words very carefully and deliberately. “That it might perhaps be an idea for you to stop seeing quite so much of him? It might make things a little… easier… on you, don’t we think?”</p>
<p>“I’m fine,” Benedict doesn’t know how many times he’ll have to say it before they’re convinced and leave him alone. “What am I supposed to say to him, anyway? ‘You’re not single so fuck off, I don’t want to anything to do with you?’ That’s awful. Hugh’s lovely. It’s nothing, anyway, Anthony. It’s nothing, just a crush. I’ll get over it.”</p>
<p>“But you’re very clearly not,” Colin tries to be gentle, and it takes every ounce of Benedict’s love for him to hold him back from snapping again.</p>
<p>“Oh, cos <em>you</em> know so much about unrequited love, don’t you, what with -” Benedict’s words are barbed despite himself, Penelope’s name on the tip of his tongue. Anthony’s dark eyes narrow in warning, flashing with anger, even as confusion and hurt come over Colin’s face.</p>
<p>“I’m only trying to help,” Colin says stiffly, before he’s suddenly getting to his feet.</p>
<p>“Well, don’t.”</p>
<p>Anthony stands too, slides a hand around Colin’s elbow, starts to lead him to the door.</p>
<p>“I think it’s best we go. Come on, Colin, I’ll drop you home.”</p>
<p>They’re pulling on their jackets and shoes when the guilt becomes too much, and Benedict calls out to them.</p>
<p>“Just… you don’t need to push. I’m fine, alright?”</p>
<p>“Sure,” Anthony says, a tight smile on his lips. Colin doesn’t look at him, doesn’t say anything, and Benedict knows he’s done wrong, hurt him.</p>
<p>“I… it’s all just… it’s nothing, OK? It’s nothing. Love you.”</p>
<p>“Love you too,” Colin finally glances at him, but his eyes are guarded.</p>
<p>Benedict says, “Anthony.”</p>
<p>“Bed time, Benny. Get some sleep. Don’t have anything more to drink tonight, OK?” Anthony’s tone takes on that authoritative-big-brother note, his eyes begging.</p>
<p>“Yeah. OK. Goodnight.”</p>
<p>Genevieve’s been suspiciously silent throughout the whole exchange. It’s only after the sound of his brothers’ footsteps have faded down the hall towards the elevator that she looks at Benedict thoughtfully for a long moment, then downs both Colin’s and Anthony’s drinks.</p>
<p>“You’re not getting over it,” she pronounces. “Colin is right.”</p>
<p>“Colin is never right about anything, ever.”</p>
<p>“Benedict. You’re not getting over him. You’ve been head over heels since the moment you clapped eyes on him! You can’t fool me!”</p>
<p>“It. Doesn’t. Matter.” Why won’t she just <em>stop</em>?</p>
<p>“You’ve seen him every day this week. He’s become a pretty big fixture in your life, very fast! You’ve only known him for a month. Maybe a step back is a good idea, like Anthony said. Wean off him a bit. Get some distance.”</p>
<p>“He’s a customer! He comes into the café! He literally pays money for the service that <em>I</em> am paid money to provide! What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say, huh? ‘Please fuck off because I can’t go five minutes without thinking about you?’ ‘Don’t set foot in the café until I can manage to get a handle on how badly I need to kiss you?’ ‘Stop making me feel this way, kthnkxbye?’ ‘Please move out of the neighbourhood, it’s killing me to see you with him?’”</p>
<p>“Oh, Benedict,” she sighs, her beautiful eyes sad as a frown twists her mouth and <em>fucking hell</em> he hadn’t meant to admit to any of that.</p>
<p>“For the last time, I’ll be fine.”</p>
<p>For good measure, later, when he’s alone and lonely, Benedict trashes his latest painting. A simple abstract of colours (brown and gold, streaked with plum and shot through with maroon – so very inspired by Henry that he can’t, he just <em>can’t</em>). He throws the canvas on the floor and stamps on it, snapping it in half and then flinging the pieces at the wall because he’s apparently regressed to having tantrums even worse than he did when he was five.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Benedict’s not fucking fine.</p>
<p>It’s 4pm on a drizzling Thursday afternoon. The café is packed, Benedict has been run off his feet all day, and can’t remember the last time he sat down. He and Penelope are exhausted, even Anthony is out on the floor trying to take the pressure off, though all he’s really competent enough to do is carry trays and clear tables.</p>
<p>And then the bell jangles over the door and everything is right in the world because Henry’s there in front of Benedict. Only he looks wan and stressed and <em>nervous</em> and beautiful.</p>
<p>And Benedict is not fine.</p>
<p>“I have a massive, massive favour to ask,” Henry is ringing his hands, biting at his bottom lip, and Benedict can’t tear his eyes from the sight.</p>
<p>“OK…?”</p>
<p>“You know Hyacinth has a trip to the zoo tomorrow?”</p>
<p>“She hasn’t shut up about it for weeks,” Benedict confirms, starting to feel like he knows where this is going. “She called me on Sunday afternoon to ask if the zoo has polar bears. Almost burst my eardrum with her crying when I said they don’t.”</p>
<p>“I’m so sorry to ask this, but it’s urgent. I wouldn’t have ambushed you like this otherwise. Gareth’s mum has come down with the flu, and we really need another chaperone…”</p>
<p><em>Danger danger danger</em> Benedict’s brain screams. <em>DON’T SAY YES. DON’T. DO NOT.</em></p>
<p>“I’m so sorry to ask. It feels like I’m taking advantage of you and our friendship and I swear I wouldn’t if I weren’t desperate. But I already know you, and I trust you, you’re great with kids… there’s no time to call in a substitute teacher…” Henry looks so frazzled, looks at him like Benedict is his last hope.</p>
<p>“Of course I’ll come,” Benedict tells him because he’s a stupid fucking idiot. He turns to Penelope, who is very quiet at his side. “Feel like being the manager tomorrow?”</p>
<p>Her blue eyes show concern, and she presses her lips together, very clearly not behind the idea at all. He’s inclined to agree with her. But she nods her assent.</p>
<p>“Of course. Whatever you need.”</p>
<p>“Thank you so much,” Henry sags in relief even as he rounds the counter, already reaching out for Benedict, and before Benedict can engineer some sort of excuse to get away Henry’s arms draw him close.</p>
<p>He has to fight not to cling, just lets his hands settle on Henry’s back as the other man squeezes the back of his neck. When he meets his eyes, Henry is beaming so wide that the guilt doesn’t have a chance.</p>
<p>Benedict swallows hard.</p>
<p>Then Henry lets him go and moves to hug Penelope, who accepts it with a laugh, tucking herself into his side. It’s then that Benedict catches sight of his mother in the doorway of the kitchen, her expression knowing. He looks away.</p>
<p>His conscience catches up with him, later when he’s hiding from Eloise’s accusatory gaze and Penelope’s wide-eyed sympathy, in the tiny office he shares with Anthony (who’s buggered off, as usual.)</p>
<p>Benedict collapses onto his chair and puts his head in his hands.</p>
<p>He hates himself. He hates his racing heartbeat. He hates Henry. He hates the phantom feeling of long fingers against his neck. He hates Hugh. He hates the guilt tarring his veins.</p>
<p>He drinks himself to sleep on his couch by 8pm that night and is not proud.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Again thank you everyone for the support and thank you so much to my betas &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bottle of Gatorade that Benedict downs before he pulls into the kerb outside his family’s house the next morning is not the best idea. His stomach revolts, not liking the drink combined with the bacon sandwich he’d had for breakfast, and he throws open the door to vomit blue into the gutter. He wants to pour himself into the gutter too, anything to avoid the mess he’s gotten himself into agreeing to this damn fieldtrip.</p><p>Fuck his life. Drinking last night was, admittedly, a huge mistake. He would be paying for it all day.</p><p>Hyacinth is none the wiser to his state as she comes sprinting out of the house to his car, her brown curls flying and her pink schoolbag trailing from her hand.</p><p>Their mum waves to him from the front-door and Benedict lifts a hand in response and pretends he doesn’t see the concern in her face. Colin’s sunglasses hide his bloodshot, aching eyes but she could probably tell how rubbish he was feeling, and the reason why through sheer intuition.</p><p>As Hyacinth dives into the front passenger seat, Gregory ambles from the house too, his eyes glued to an iPad. The iPad’s owner is hot on his heels, though, and plucks it from his hand before it can be secreted away into his backpack. Benedict is actually a little impressed to see Anthony up and about so early in the morning.</p><p>Gregory huffs in despondency as he clambers into the backseat, but Anthony ignores him, just leans down to scowl at Benedict through the open driver’s window.</p><p>“You look disgusting.”</p><p>“Ta very much.”</p><p>“Have a <em>great</em> day,” Anthony’s drawl is both warning and worry.</p><p>“Anthony! We’re going to the zoo!” Hyacinth calls to him.</p><p>“I know, honey, have fun.”</p><p>“Did you know that there’s red pandas at the zoo? <em>Red pandas</em>, Anthony!”</p><p>“Good Lord, are there? Whatever will they think of next,” their eldest brother’s smile for her is gentle, but his expression turns hard again when he glances back at Benedict.</p><p>“Just… behave, OK? Keep away from… certain people.”</p><p>“Stellar advice, thanks,” Benedict mutters, wishing Gregory would hurry the hell up with his seatbelt so that he can accelerate away from Anthony’s accusatory gaze as fast as his Mazda will let him. He hopes idly that Anthony steps in his vomit. And that he’s barefoot.</p><p>As it is, Benedict is only too pleased to peel away from kerb. He drives to the school on autopilot, ignoring the kids’ bickering and focusing on controlling the queasiness of his stomach, the tensing of his nerves, the thumping of his head and the racing of his heart.</p><p>He parks in the visitor section of the parking lot, and ruffles Gregory’s hair in farewell as Hyacinth bounces about and begs him to hurry up. She’s beyond excited as she tows him the familiar route to her classroom (the route he’s replayed walking again and again in his mind, only the scenario plays out a little differently in his fantasies. His sister’s never present, for one.)</p><p>Hyacinth can’t stop giggling the closer they draw to the classroom, and it takes until Benedict’s being tugged inside by the hand for him to realise that she’s not only excited for the zoo. She’s excited to be with him.</p><p>“This is my big brother Benedict and he’s my big brother!” Hyacinth announces to the room at large as they walk in, and Benedict just has time to spot Henry’s soul-warming grin before he’s converged on by a mass of chattering children who seem to feel the need to stare up at him and ask a billion questions.</p><p>“Are there tigers at the zoo? Can we ride them?” one little boy is asking, as if Benedict knows all the answers to the universe, his eyes as wide as saucers.</p><p>“Are there aliens?” a girl interrupts.</p><p>“Ah, no, no aliens.”</p><p>“Maybe the aliens are disguised as the tigers,” she insists.</p><p>Estelle Danbury, Daphne’s mother-in-law and one of Henry’s fellow year teachers, comes to Benedict’s rescue, when it becomes clear that Henry has no intention to.</p><p>“Leave Benedict alone, Ellie. For the last time, there are no aliens, not at the zoo, not under your bed, and Miss Cowper isn’t one either. Now, I want everyone to check that you’ve got your notebooks, pencils, sunhats…”</p><p>“And as for you,” Estelle murmurs in undertone to Benedict, voice stern. “You look as though you could use a fry up. And about 10 litres of water.”</p><p>“You’re not wrong,” Benedict mutters back, as he helps Hyacinth check her bag, then leaves her to her friends when Henry waves him to come up to the front of the room.</p><p>Henry looks sinfully good today in jeans and a green sweater, but he’s pale and red-eyed, as if he hadn’t slept a wink.</p><p>“Thanks again for doing this,” Henry smiles at him, before he introduces him to the woman next to him, Cressida Cowper, he and Estelle’s fellow teacher. She’s dressed in a white blouse, a miniskirt, and heels, which can’t be all that appropriate for a day of walking around a zoo wrangling children, but what would Benedict know about what women find comfortable?</p><p>She simpers a hello to Benedict, laying a hand on his arm that he can’t find a reason to dodge, and the flash of <em>something</em> in Henry’s eyes as he tracks the slide of her hand up Benedict’s forearm makes his blood run frigidly cold, then scorching hot.</p><p>“Group lists!” Henry suddenly produces an armful of papers and shoves one into Cressida’s face, forcing her to let Benedict go. “Make sure I haven’t missed anyone, Cress?”</p><p>Benedict takes the one he’s offered, scans it for Hyacinth’s name, and is relieved to find he’s definitely going to be spending the day with her.</p><p>“Cress, Marina over there is going to help you with your class,” Henry gestures to a pretty woman who’s talking to Estelle by the door. </p><p>“And you,” he finishes as he rounds on Benedict, ”You poor thing, you’re with me for the day.”</p><p>“Lovely,” Benedict definitely won’t be sharing that information with Anthony. Or Eloise. Or Genevieve.</p><p>To speak of the Devil is to summon her, and his phone buzzes in his pocket as they’re walking out to the buses. Hyacinth keeps throwing glances over her shoulder to check Benedict’s still there, her eyes bright with joy. If it wasn’t for her, he may very well have done a runner. There was no way today was going to go well, by any stretch of the imagination.</p><p>At least his headache is fading – the ice-cold bottle of water Estelle gave him was doing a good job – though something in him <em>hurts</em> when he sees Gen’s texts.</p><p>
  <em>Just came by the café to see you, but you’re not there. Eloise said you’ve got to Hell and deserve to rot there, whatever that means.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Now Penelope is scolding her for being unsupportive of you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What’s going on, where are you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Benedict? I can see you’re reading these, don’t bloody ignore me, you prick!</em>
</p><p><em>Zoo trip with Hyacinth</em>, he texts back once he’s sitting on the bus, pulling his sister down next to him to block anyone else from taking the seat.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, for fuck’s sake. You idiot! Are you insane?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Benedict!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>DO NOT HAVE SEX WITH HIM IN SOME DINGY ZOO BATHROOM. DO. NOT.</em>
</p><p>Her derision doesn’t sting; he’d expected to hear it as soon as she inevitably found out, but he puts his phone away without replying all the same.</p><p>And then Hyacinth decides she absolutely, positively has to sit on his lap for the journey. Henry taking her now vacant seat next to them really feels like the powers that be are fucking with Benedict, and they’re loving it. They’re probably in cahoots with Eloise.</p><p>As it is, Henry’s busy co-ordinating things for most of the trip, wandering up and down the aisle frequently to keep the children under control. One seems Hell-bent on licking the window.  </p><p>Cressida was on the bus too, but she was sitting at the front filing her nails and listening to music through expensive pink headphones, not helping Henry in the slightest. Benedict spots the little girl who is convinced that she’s an alien, Ellie, eyeing her suspiciously, and hides a smile in Hyacinth’s shoulder.</p><p>“I’ll need your number,” Henry murmurs to Benedict when he finally drops down into the seat again, already looking completely fed up with the whole day. “In case we get separated or something.”</p><p>Benedict rattles off his number while pretending to be absorbed in fixing Hyacinth’s hair – he probably makes it messier, but whatever, she won’t care.</p><p>Henry heaves a tired sigh and closes his eyes once he’s typed Benedict’s into his phone, tipping his head back against the seat. Benedict tries and fails to keep his eyes from his bared throat. Henry only gathers himself and sits up again as they pull into the zoo drop-off bay.</p><p>“Brace yourself,” he murmurs to Benedict, looking about as done as Benedict feels. “It’s going to be a long, hard day.”</p><p>“Are you feeling OK?” Benedict asks him, as Henry pastes a smile on and stands.</p><p>“Didn’t sleep too great. Hugh’s been on my case… well, anyway,” Henry cuts himself off and turns back to address his students.</p><p>“Best behaviour today, please! The zookeepers called me this morning and said the lions will only come out if Class 2A is good!”</p><p>They all assemble in the entry zone, and Benedict focuses on keeping his eye on Henry’s students, as tourists, families and hordes of other people file past the classes and into the zoo.</p><p>A little girl huddled all alone in the centre of the mass of kids takes one look at the crowd and freezes, overwhelmed, before she rushes up and ducks behind Benedict’s legs. He lets her hide until Henry’s done talking, then fishes her out, offering her his hand to hold.</p><p>“It’s alright, sweetheart, you can stay with me. Are you excited to go and see the animals?”</p><p>She shakes her no, looking ready to burst into tears, her dark eyes terrified.</p><p>“What about the flamingos?” Benedict tries. “Shall we go and find the flamingos with Mr. Granville? Do you know what colour flamingos are?”</p><p>“They’re pink!” Hyacinth screams giddily, bounding up to them. “Just like your jumper, Alice. And they stand on one leg, like this!”</p><p>She balances on her left foot, then tries to coax Alice into trying it too. She eventually does so, still clinging to Benedict’s hand, and soon the whole mass of sixty or so kids are copying, adopting various tactics to try and balance on one foot.</p><p>“I leave you alone for five minutes, and you’ve got them performing a weird ritual like some sort of mass cult,” Henry murmurs, appearing with a tray of coffees for the adults and a pile of maps under his arm for the children.</p><p>Benedict just shrugs at him as he helps Alice balance. “Isn’t that standard when it comes to children?”</p><p>Once they’re ready to peel off into their class groups, Alice reaches for Henry’s hand too, which is how Benedict spends the first half hour wandering about with him, the little one between them. The rest of the students pair up and hold hands, walking ahead.</p><p>Hyacinth shoots glares that get progressively more jealous over her shoulder as she flounces just in front of Benedict, and he drags her to him once Henry’s got their group clustered about the meerkat enclosure.</p><p>“That’s enough of the sour looks,” Benedict murmurs to her. “Alice doesn’t like all the people, Hy, it’s scary. I expect you to be nicer to her, please.”</p><p>“She can hold <em>my </em>hand, if she likes,” Hyacinth decides, and Benedict encourages her over to Alice.</p><p>“Alice, my brother is boring and old,” his traitorous little sister announces, and Henry slaps a hand over his mouth to contain his laughter. “You can walk with me and Francis instead, OK?”</p><p>“Wow,” Benedict mumbles, as Hyacinth leads Alice over to her group of her friends, who all welcome her with hugs because 7-year-old girls are sweethearts.</p><p>Henry’s shoulders shake, and his voice cracks with mirth when he finally speaks.</p><p>“Oh my God, that was brutal! But don’t worry, I think there was a queue forming to hold your hand next, if you get lonely.”</p><p>“I’ll cope,” Benedict manages, all of him on edge and shaky just from the feeling of Henry’s arm brushing his as he moves past him to pull Francis down from trying to climb the enclosure fence.</p><p>By lunchtime, Benedict feels less like he’s going to vomit with every step and hasn’t lost one child or needed the first aid kit in Henry’s bag, so overall he thinks it’s going OK. He hasn’t been to a zoo in years, and it’s weirdly good fun to be doing it with such a huge troop of kids, who get excited about everything, from the animals to a rubbish bin painted to look like a hippo.</p><p>Since Hyacinth’s been handling her jealousy at sharing him with the other children much better, he lifts her onto his lap as they all meet to eat lunch in the park in the centre of the zoo. She offers him a bite of her apple in return, but he’s content to gulp down his fourth coffee of the day like the lifeline it is.</p><p>After everyone finishes eating, Estelle has the children dig out their notebooks and draw their favourite animal so far. The sound of sixty children quietening down to scribble with their colour pencils in their books is lulling to Benedict’s ears.</p><p>He lays back and dozes in the sun on the grass for a while, Colin’s sunglasses in place and Hyacinth perched on his knees and using his chest to brace her notebook on, before he feels her getting restless.</p><p>“See how fast you can run around the park, I’ll time you,” he challenges, and she’s up and off his lap and tearing away, screaming, and waving her arms as she sprints.</p><p>“DO IT QUIETLY,” he calls after her, as ten or so of the other children leap up to follow her. Shaking his head Benedict picks up her discarded pencils and tucks them into her bag so she doesn’t lose them. In her book, she’s drawn what he thinks might be an elephant. Or possibly a rhino. As he squints at it, Henry touches his shoulder to get his attention, long fingers brushing the bare skin of Benedict collarbone.</p><p>Benedict can’t help his gasp and Henry yanks his hand away, surprised by his reaction.</p><p>“Sorry! Did I startle you?”</p><p>“Sure, let’s call it that,” Benedict mumbles, knowing his face is bright pink. Then he registers what he said and closes his eyes in mortification, beyond grateful for the sunglasses. “I… I mean…”</p><p>Henry is gazing down at him, his eyes wide. His lips part to speak, but he’s cut off by the unmistakable thump of a child smacking into concrete. Benedict glances up wildly to see Francis sitting on the pavement a few metres away, clutching his bloody knee.</p><p>“I’ll get him!” he announces, lurching to his feet and keen to get as far away from Henry as possible.</p><p>Francis isn’t crying, but his lower lip is trembling and Benedict cuts through the cluster of children to reach him.</p><p>“You’re alright!” he tells Francis cheerfully. “That was some impressive running! Let’s get you cleaned up.”</p><p>Benedict hoists him up and piggybacks him to Estelle, who tuts and washes out his graze, then patches him up with disinfectant and plasters.</p><p>Once Francis is back to tearing around quite happily, Estelle takes a drink from a hipflask, then offers it to Benedict.</p><p>“Should you be drinking?” he dares to question, taking a healthy slug of what turns out to be bourbon.</p><p>“I raised Simon. This barely registers,” she replies loftily, and he almost chokes on his mouthful as he laughs.</p><p>Once the energy of the students picks back up, Henry leads them to the lions, who are indeed outside, sunning themselves on rocks in their enclosure.</p><p>“Make one roar,” Hyacinth begs, but Benedict shakes his head at her.</p><p>“No can do, they’re sleeping. Would like to be woken up when you’re asleep and asked to roar?”</p><p>“I’d just like sleep,” Henry mumbles from a few feet away, over the sounds of Hyacinth imitating roaring. While Benedict has felt progressively better through the course of the day, Henry looks even worse. His skin is grey, and Benedict noticed that he hadn’t eaten anything at lunch.</p><p>Without trying to make it too obvious, Benedict takes over with the kids as much as he can, fielding their questions and keeping them clustered together so none get too far ahead or behind. If Henry notices, he doesn’t comment. Benedict spots him stabbing away angrily at his phone at some point, then hears him make a frustrated noise as he shoves it back in his bag, his face pinched with distress.</p><p>“Are you doing OK?” Benedict has to ask, while the kids are busy peering into the glass enclosures of the reptile house, arguing about whether they’re looking at a snake or a stick, and trying to spot the lizards camouflaged against rocks and leaves.</p><p>“No,” Henry says. “I wouldn’t say so.”</p><p>“Has something happened?”</p><p>“Not exactly. Not yet. I’m just mentally preparing for the daily screaming match I seem to be embroiled in against my will every time I cross my threshold,” Henry keeps his eyes fixed on little Alice peering at a tortoise as he speaks, but his voice betrays pain.</p><p>“I’m sorry to hear that,” Benedict says carefully, meaning it. He might have a crush on Henry, sure, he can’t deny that. But that doesn’t mean he wants either him or Hugh to be actively hurt or unhappy.</p><p>“It’s fine,” Henry mumbles. “He’s just… I never thought he could be like this, but he’s become so obsessive, so <em>angry</em>. It’s like he’s laying traps trying to catch me out in lies that only exist in his mind. I get home and he’s trashed the apartment because he’s upset that I haven’t had time during the day to sit there texting him every five minutes. Or he’s thrown the food he’s cooked in the bin because I’m ten minutes later than I expected. Or he tries to go through my phone to see who I talk to. It’s absurd.”</p><p>“Has something… changed to make him behave that way?” Benedict asks, his lips numb, whole body thrumming with adrenaline, heart pounding. It didn’t sound like the Hugh he had come to get to know, who always seemed so relaxed and friendly.</p><p>Henry’s flat, “No,” is not even remotely convincing. When Benedict chances a look at him, he shakes his head in dismissal.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter. It’s… it’s just a blip, we’ll get through it,” Henry says, voice suddenly insistent and calm, like he’s trying to persuade Benedict. Or himself. “It will be fine. He’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. Just not today. Today’s not a good day.”</p><p>With that, Henry pushes through the door of the enclosure and out into the sunlight. Benedict kind of wishes he didn’t have to follow.</p><p>They don’t talk for the rest of the afternoon, Henry faking cheerfulness for his students, Benedict finding himself unable to keep up any charade of his own. He feels… nervous, shaky. Like he’s been caught out and chastised, but can’t ignore the little flare of hope, bright in his lungs.</p><p>He texts Gen when they’re all clustered outside the zoo at 2pm, waiting to file onto the buses, needing her support even though he doesn’t deserve it.</p><p>
  <em>This was so fucked. I shouldn’t have come.</em>
</p><p>His feeling have only intensified after spending so long in Henry’s cope, and he hates himself for the tiny sliver of happiness he feels in hearing that Henry is unhappy with Hugh.</p><p>She doesn’t answer, either because she’s busy at work or she’s mad at him, and he misses her desperately either way. He takes comfort in Hyacinth instead, who’s walking on cloud nine after finally seeing the red pandas.</p><p>When he falls onto a seat in the middle of the bus, feeling drained and morose, Hyacinth climbs into his lap and curls up against his chest. She falls asleep about five minutes into the journey, her face pressed into his neck. Benedict rests his chin on her curls, breaths in the scent of sunlight and grass from her hair and tries to pretend he can’t feel Henry’s eyes on him the whole ride home.</p><p>He thinks Hyacinth will wake once he carries her off the bus after they’ve arrived, but she stays lax in his arms, her skinny legs wound around his waist and her whole body draped against his shoulder. He sticks her bag in the boot of his car and wanders back to the school gate to wait for Gregory, who should only be about ten minutes away from being let out.</p><p>He clutches Hyacinth a little tighter, after she stirs when he raises a hand to wave goodbye to Alice. How many more years before he wouldn’t get to do this anymore, hold his sister like the child she still was?</p><p>“Stay exactly this age forever,” Benedict mumbles into her ear, finding a spot to lean his back against the fence, as the zoo-returnees are collected by their parents. “Don’t grow a single second older.”</p><p>It’s happening too fast, his baby siblings growing up. Colin’s been talking of travel almost daily recently and is due to finish University this year; Daphne is married and a mother at only 21; Eloise is already full to the brim with more cynicism, sarcasm, and snark than people five times her age. Even darling Francesca had somehow morphed from a sweet child into a little lady, growing less and less interested in anything other than boys and makeup and clothes every time Benedict saw her. And Gregory was teetering on adolescence, rapidly losing interest in the toys he’d loved as a child, in favour of sitting glued to a screen.</p><p>“If it’s any consolation, I think the same thing about each and every one of my students,” Henry says to him from a few metres away, as he counts the amount of his class still waiting to be picked up by guardians. “I want them to stay 7 forever. The worst pain they have to go through is usually a graze or a bee sting. Their hearts can’t get too badly battered, yet.”</p><p>Benedict peers at him, feeling sorry and sad, and can’t find any words to offer in comfort. Whatever was happening, or was yet to happen, between Henry and Hugh, is a danger-zone, and he knows he needs to stay out of it.</p><p>It’s a relief when Gregory wanders through the gate, thumbs frantically tapping at his Tamagotchi, and Benedict can take his family home.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks everyone for the comments, kudos and support &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Even with how weird and tense everything feels after the trip, Benedict just can’t stop thinking about him.</p>
<p>There’s no sign of Hugh anymore, and anytime he spots Henry in the street, in the café, in the park, he looks more and more morose. Benedict tries to be friendly, to act natural, but Henry must sense the awkwardness in him, or maybe he just doesn’t bloody like him or whatever after all, because he pulls away too.</p>
<p>Benedict reverts back to his Operation: Avoidance tactics, once it becomes clear Henry’s doing the same. Maybe, with a bit of sheer willpower and a lot of alcohol, he’ll actually get over his silly (all-consuming, aching, helpless) crush.</p>
<p>Though, it would really be so much easier for Benedict if Hyacinth wasn’t now utterly obsessed with having him come to the school as frequently as possible.</p>
<p>“She’s pitching a complete fit,” Eloise has to yell to be heard down the phone Thursday evening about two weeks after the zoo trip. “Benedict for the sake of my eardrums, just say you’ll do it!”</p>
<p>“I. WANT. BENEDICT!” Hyacinth is having a full-blown tantrum in the background, despite their mother’s attempts to calm her, just audible under her screaming. “I DON’T WANT COLIN TO COME GET ME, I WANT BENEDICT! WHY CAN’T BENEDICT COME GET ME!!”</p>
<p>“Dearest, that’s not- “</p>
<p>“Fine,” Benedict snarls, annoyed at Eloise, at Hyacinth, at Henry, at everyone. “But you can all lay off have a fucking go at me from now on! ‘Oh, avoid him, Benedict; don’t see him, Benedict; don’t go near him Benedict! BUT GO PICK HYACINTH UP FROM THE FUCKING ART CLASS THAT HE TEACHES, BENEDICT!’”</p>
<p>He hangs up before Eloise can respond, and paces his apartment, fuming. The urge to go to his fridge for a beer is overwhelming, but he turns away from it.</p>
<p>Benedict knows he shouldn’t let his temper get away from him, but he’s sick to death of Eloise’ lofty criticisms, as if she knew anything about it anyway, of Anthony looming over his shoulder every time Henry’s in the café, of his mother’s quiet, pointed looks and Penelope’s sympathetic ones. Even Francesca, who’s at boarding school in High Wycombe on a music scholarship, has been texting him wanting to know all about Henry, despite never having met him.</p>
<p>It’s a struggle, the following afternoon, for Benedict not to feel a bit of resentment towards Hyacinth, as he parks outside the school, slamming the door of his blue Mazda. The second he pokes his head around her classroom door and claps eyes on her, however, all the anger dissipates.</p>
<p>“BENEDICT!” she screams, leaping to her feet and upending her chair, a pot of something gold and several glue-covered paintbrushes in her rush to run to him. He sweeps her into his arms and hates himself for being cross at her.</p>
<p>“I haven’t seen you in forever,” she wails directly into his ear.</p>
<p>“I saw you last weekend.”</p>
<p>“That’s forever!”</p>
<p>“OK,” he agrees charitably, glancing up and around the room. There are two kids still sitting at the table working on something involving lots of glitter. Henry is cleaning up what Hyacinth has spilled and deliberately not looking at him.</p>
<p>“Are you all done? Shall we be off?” Benedict asks his sister.</p>
<p>“All done,” she agrees, sliding down off his hip and scurrying back to the table.</p>
<p>“And you did a very good job too,” Henry smiles at her, finally lifting his eyes to meet Benedict’s and offering him the lurid pink A3 sheet of paper Hyacinth seems to have glued a rainbow of glitter onto.</p>
<p>“It’s a unicorn,” Hyacinth pipes up proudly.</p>
<p>“How clever you are,” Benedict tells her. “I was always partial to macaroni art myself. Maybe I should take art classes again, Hyacinth, do you think?”</p>
<p>“You went to big people school, though,” Hyacinth reminds him. She giggles like she thinks he’s being silly, but honestly? He’s got to get over his lack of inspiration somehow.</p>
<p>Henry manages a smile but turns away from Benedict when the final parent arrives to claim the two little boys. They race off with waves to Hyacinth and screeches of “BYYEEEE MR. GRANVIIIIILLEEEEEE,” their pictures clutched in their hands and their father looking none too pleased at the inevitable mess the glitter would make in his home.</p>
<p>Hyacinth busies herself packing her schoolbag, while Benedict lingers at the door and mulls over how to make things feel less awkward. He comes up empty.</p>
<p>“Don’t forget your spelling book,” Henry reminds Hyacinth. “You left it in Miss Cowper’s room, she reminded me earlier.”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah!” Off she runs out the door, footsteps receding down the hall, and Benedict suddenly finds the room very airless.</p>
<p>Henry finishes tidying the supplies away behind his desk and turns to look at him, as if he’s waiting for something. Benedict has no idea what Henry sees in his face, but his gaze goes soft. He moves slowly out from behind the desk, as if he doesn’t want to startle him.</p>
<p>It takes a moment to realise Henry is holding something out to him, and Benedict takes the proffered sheet of paper with some confusion.</p>
<p>“Something for you. In light of our conversation the other week.”</p>
<p>“Oh?” Benedict looks down at a simple charcoal drawing, black lines smudging white paper.</p>
<p>It’s him and Hyacinth as they’d been on the bus coming home from the zoo, her curled up asleep on his lap with her face tucked into his neck. His face isn’t visible, but his chin rests on her hair, his hands cradling her back.</p>
<p>“So you can remember when she was 7. Break it out at her 21<sup>st</sup>, or her wedding, or something,” Henry smiles at him and Benedict can’t speak through his choked-up throat, can’t see through tear-blurred eyes, just finds his hand and pulls him closer and kisses him.</p>
<p>Henry’s lips are soft, and his fingers are warm, Benedict just has time to register, before Henry gasps against his mouth, and pulls back, pushes him away.</p>
<p>Benedict stares at him, delight giving way to horror at the shock on Henry’s face.</p>
<p>“Oh fuck. Ohhhh fuck. I am so sorry! I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have done that!”</p>
<p>“No. You shouldn’t have.” Henry backs away a little further, fingers pressed to his mouth.</p>
<p>“I’m so, so sorry! I only meant to thank you…”</p>
<p>Then Hyacinth is bursting back into the room and skipping up to Benedict, waving her book proudly.</p>
<p>“Found it!”</p>
<p>“Well done,” Benedict chokes out to her. “Come on. Home.”</p>
<p>She rushes to Henry and hugs his waist, and he lays a hand on her curls, still seeming dazed.</p>
<p>“Bye Mr. Granville!”</p>
<p>“Have a nice weekend,” Henry tells her absently, looking completely lost.</p>
<p>Once they’re outside, Benedict picks her up under one arm and pretty much sprints from the school grounds as fast as he can.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>The club he winds up in, already half-drunk, at 1am that night – or rather, the next morning – is a stupid idea.</p>
<p>Bringing Genevieve is a stupid idea too – she’s as gone for Lucy as he is for Henry, and she doesn’t want to be there, so she’s pissed at him.</p>
<p>Bringing Anthony is an even stupider idea, because he’s got Siena with him and now they’re having sex in the toilets. Or maybe they’re having a fight. Or breaking up. Or getting engaged. It’s hard to tell, with those two.</p>
<p>The biggest mistake by far, though, is the blonde who sits next to him at the bar, who smiles and flirts over the din, and looks so attractive in the flashing lights that he’s very flattered, even as his brain screams <em>not Henry, not Henry.</em></p>
<p>Downing the last of a drink he doesn’t taste, Benedict shakes off Genevieve’s restraining hand and reaches for the blonde’s instead. The bathroom stall is a mistake, the mouth on his is a mistake, especially once his shirt is opened and the mouth moves down his torso.</p>
<p><em>Not Henry, not Henry, not Henry…</em> but is that a good thing, or bad? Benedict doesn’t know any more, but he stops wanting as quickly as he started, eases the blonde back, and does up his shirt, mutters an apology as he stumbles away alone. He’s drunk, but not drunk enough to want anyone but Henry.</p>
<p>Anthony and Siena are in the hallway that leads to the bathrooms, though they hadn’t been there earlier, kissing even as they argue. Benedict staggers right past them, and Anthony calls to him, tries to grab his arm, but Benedict shakes him free. He doesn’t want to be here.</p>
<p>They follow him back to Genevieve, who to her credit doesn’t ask Benedict what happened, just takes his hand, and leads him outside. It’s raining, but the taxi they pile into is warm, then there’s more rain and stairs and Gen’s living room. She drags him to the couch, Siena helps take off his shoes, and Anthony tucks a blanket over him.</p>
<p>He falls asleep before he can thank them, and that makes him feel stupid too.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>He wakes to a clatter, and Lucy apologises, cringing from where she accidentally dropped a bowl in the sink.</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Benedict tells her. Comparative to normal, he hadn’t had as much to drink as usual, so he’s not even feeling too bad.</p>
<p>She makes him a bowl of cereal and brings him a huge mug of coffee, which is good of her, and they sit in silence at the kitchen table.</p>
<p>“Gen still sleeping?” Benedict asks, choosing not to comment on the fact that Lucy’s old bedroom has been turned into a design studio for Gen’s drawings and creations. Benedict had spotted through the open door on his way to the bathroom during the night that it’s now full of dressmaker mannequins and bolts of fabric, meaning there’s only one possible place Lucy sleeps.</p>
<p>“Yes, she’s out like a light,” Lucy tells him.</p>
<p>“Does she hate me?”</p>
<p>“No,” her lips quirk in a smile. “Of course not. Never.”</p>
<p>“Do you?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Does he?”</p>
<p>“That, I couldn’t say. There’s a lot going on. It’s very complicated.”</p>
<p>“Did he tell you what happened? What I did?” Benedict knows already from her eyes what the answer is and can’t look at her anymore.</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“You’re not going to give me an inch, are you?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>Benedict stands with a sigh, rubbing his aching eyes and straightening his rumpled clothes. Sleeping in skinny jeans <em>sucked</em>. He spots his shoes by the door and makes a beeline for them.</p>
<p>“I won’t impose any longer. Have a good day.”</p>
<p>“Sure.” Lucy eyes him over the rim of her mug, and he leaves feeling even more confused.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>It takes a few more weeks of tension, of agony, of fear bursting through Benedict every time the café bell jangles, every time he hears someone call his name, but slowly he works through his jittered nerves and starts to let go of his guilt.</p>
<p>He doesn’t forgive himself, but he also can’t turn back time, can’t change how he felt, how he continues to feel. He’s not proud, but he’s not regretful either.</p>
<p>He’s not the one to tell Genevieve that he kissed Henry, but she finds out somehow because the next time she sees him, a few days after he slept over at her flat, she punches his arm and then kisses his cheek a second later.</p>
<p>“You idiot!”</p>
<p>“I know,” he mumbles, rubbing his arm.</p>
<p>“You <em>idiot</em>.”</p>
<p>“I know, Genevieve, alright? For fuck’s sake.”</p>
<p>“How was it?”</p>
<p>He shakes his head in response to her smirk, can’t answer. Can’t tell her it was everything. Can’t tell her about Henry rejecting him.</p>
<p>Eloise figures it out, or perhaps Mum does, or even Penelope – Benedict knows Gen would never betray him by telling them, but he arrives at work one morning to find them all clustered around a table drinking coffee and talking about him.</p>
<p>Only Pen has the grace to look sorry for being caught gossiping. Eloise just scowls at him, and his Mum looks worried. Gen, for reasons known only to Gen, looks like the cat that got the cream, and he doesn’t even want to know why, just brushes past them all to grab his apron and sort out the till float.</p>
<p>Anthony doesn’t figure it out on his own, either, because of course he doesn’t, but once he finds out he tells Colin. Colin tells Daphne, who calls him one Sunday afternoon, baby Alexander squalling in the background.</p>
<p>“Benedict.”</p>
<p>“Hi, Daph. God he’s got a set of lungs on him, huh?”</p>
<p>“Benedict.”</p>
<p>“Won’t be long until he’s talking rings around us, like Eloise and Hyacinth, mark my words.”</p>
<p>“<em>Benedict</em>.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>She just sighs heavily and hangs up.</p>
<p>What his family expect to happen is beyond him, really. He doesn’t expect shit-all himself. The need to contact Henry, to see him again, to explain himself, even to come clean to Hugh, drives him mad initially. Then he resigns himself. If something were going to happen, good or bad, it would happen, with or without his approval.</p>
<p>So, when Benedict hears from Genevieve, who was told by Lucy, who had it from Henry himself, allegedly, that the break-up was about as bad as it could possibly get, he has no idea what to do, how to feel.</p>
<p>He’s also of the opinion that it actually has nothing to do with him.</p>
<p>His family disagrees.</p>
<p>“You should proclaim your love, now’s your chance,” Colin tells him dreamily over coffee on Benedict’s break one afternoon. Benedict eyes him with incredible distaste, as Colin completely fails to notice Penelope going bright red, even though she’s standing right next to him delivering his latte.</p>
<p>“What the fuck would you know about declarations of love,” Benedict can’t help his tone. Colin’s so <em>young </em>sometimes.</p>
<p>“I know enough!” Colin bristles.</p>
<p>“Oh yeah, like what?”</p>
<p>“I know that… I know that…” Colin goes very pink in the cheeks, and Benedict rolls his eyes and stands, ruffling his brother’s hair.</p>
<p>“Don’t strain yourself, Col.”</p>
<p>“I know that you have to be brave,” Colin half-shouts after him, when Benedict’s half-way back to the counter of the – luckily – mostly empty floor. “I know that if you really love him, you need to seize your opportunity with both hands, and not let him go!”</p>
<p>Benedict raises an eyebrow, surprised by the outburst. Colin darts nervous eyes about the café, at Eloise staring at him with her mouth open from the kitchen door, Anthony looking rather physically pained next to her, and Penelope, red and trembling by the coffee machine. He swallows hard, then he bolts out the front door, coffee forgotten, along with his bag of textbooks and his laptop.</p>
<p>“Fucking hell,” Benedict mutters, retrieving his brother’s stuff and finally making it back behind the counter. “What was that all about?”</p>
<p>“I’m sure I don’t know!” Penelope chokes out, her voice high with unshed tears.</p>
<p>“You do know Colin <em>will</em> figure it out, one day?” Benedict shoos his gawping brother and sister away and puts an arm around Penelope’s shoulders.</p>
<p>“I’ve loved him all my life,” she tells him, not meeting his eye. “And I really don’t believe he will.”</p>
<p>There’s really nothing Benedict can say to that.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Hugh bursts into the cafe one wet Sunday about a week after The Break-Up, rain-soaked and looking livid.</p>
<p>“You kissed him?!” he advances on Benedict, eyes half-deranged.</p>
<p>Before Benedict can so much as open his mouth, Anthony leaps out of their office, where he’s been playing Gardenscapes on his phone instead of checking the stock spreadsheets, and plants himself in Hugh’s path. When Hugh reaches him, breathing hard, Anthony puts a hand on his chest to hold him back. Penelope arms herself with the milk frother and tucks herself protectively against Benedict’s side. Eloise just pokes her head around the kitchen door to smirk.</p>
<p>Hugh barely seems to notice any of them, his eyes on Benedict, wounded and hurt.</p>
<p>“You kissed him?!”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Benedict confirms. “It was an accident; it only lasted a split second. I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“Sorry?! You’re sorry?! As if you two haven’t been fucking behind my back?! Are you sorry about that too?!”</p>
<p>“I haven’t been doing anything of the sort,” Benedict tells him, feeling weirdly calm. “Nothing like that has ever happened between us. Only the kiss, and that was completely on me. He pushed me away immediately.”</p>
<p>Hugh makes a disgusted noise and wheels away from Anthony, starts to pace the floor as he shakes his head, clutches at his hair.</p>
<p>“You’re lying! You’re lying, you must be! I know how he feels about you! He admitted it!”</p>
<p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Benedict’s heart lodges in his throat. “I haven’t seen or spoken to him in nearly a month, but I have no reason to believe he feels anything towards me at all. I’ve had a crush on him since we met, I admit that. I didn’t know he had a boyfriend. Once I met you, I was horrified with myself. But until the mistake the other afternoon, I was trying to keep that buried. There’s nothing more to it than that.”</p>
<p>Hugh doesn’t seem to be listening, and Anthony shoots a concerned glance at Benedict over his shoulder. Hugh is pacing, still ranting, and Benedict quietly slips his phone from his pocket and unlocks it, scrolling for Henry’s contact listing.</p>
<p>“Do you have any idea what it’s like?” Hugh wails. “To love someone completely and utterly for two years, to move in together, to get a dog together, to dream about marriage and buying a house and children… only to have him come home one day unable to stop talking about <em>someone else</em>? I’ve had to watch and listen and <em>know</em> that he was falling in love with you the past few months, unable to do a thing about it! Do you have any fucking idea how that felt?!”</p>
<p>Benedict can’t help but pity him, the pain in his voice, but he turns away and dials Henry all the same, trusting Anthony will keep him safe.</p>
<p>Henry picks up on the fifth ring, sounding tired.</p>
<p>“Benedict…” he sighs, and Benedict scrunches his face up as he tries to work through the pain of hearing his name from Henry’s lips.</p>
<p>“Hi. I’m at the café and Hugh’s here,” Benedict talks quiet and quick, hoping Hugh’s own ranting will drown out his voice. “Look, he’s not in great shape, he’s spouting off and acting really weird. Can you come and get him? The stuff he’s saying…”</p>
<p>“I’m coming now,” Henry gasps out, then Benedict’s listening to nothing but the dial-tone.</p>
<p>In the five minutes it takes for Henry to get there, Hugh’s swung from crying to screaming to howling abuse at Benedict, Anthony gently pushing him back every time he ventures too close to the counter. He’s not violent, just upset, and it breaks Benedict’s heart clean in two that there’s really not much he can say. He’s sorry for the kiss and apologises every time Hugh wails at him about it, but he’s done nothing else wrong, nothing else to be ashamed of.</p>
<p>When Henry rushes in, while Hugh’s slumped at a table having another cry, he only stays long enough to gasp out an apology to them all, then he’s hauling his sobbing ex-boyfriend out into the street.</p>
<p>“OK,” Eloise says slowly. “So that was a thing that just happened.”</p>
<p>Benedict’s completely lost for words, just accepts Anthony’s hug when his brother puts his arms around him and closes his eyes very tight.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for the support and love &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The simple fact, as excruciating as it is for Benedict, is that at the end of the day, Henry clearly just doesn’t want him.</p>
<p>It doesn’t matter, anymore, how badly Benedict has longed for him. It doesn’t matter all the nights he’s lain awake, drunk and needing, before eventually falling asleep with Henry’s name on his lips. It doesn’t matter that in his dreams he remembers every interaction, his mind replays every minute detail – the red sheen to Henry’s dark hair when it’s lit up by sunlight; the line of his throat when he tipped his head back against the bus seat; the way his eyes danced as they’d flirted; how he always seemed to be enjoying himself, as if he and the world were sharing in some secret joke that mere mortals weren’t privy to. It doesn’t matter that every morning Benedict wakes reaching for someone not there, who’s never been there, who’ll never be there. It doesn’t matter that he’s disquieted and lost, all day, every day, because his heart is raw and aching in a way that only Henry can soothe.</p>
<p>It doesn’t matter, Benedict tells himself, as he drinks and drinks, and picks arguments with his brothers, snaps at his sisters, spits jealous cruelty at Genevieve for being happy with Lucy, and just plain cruelty in general at his mother, because he’s sunk that low. He just wants them all to leave him alone, to stop obsessing over it, to quit asking questions he doesn’t have any answers to. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself, as he tries to paint, hunches as his easel with his palette on his knee, paints drying, whiskey in his hand. It was just a stupid crush. It doesn’t matter.</p>
<p>Benedict has the dignity (just a shred left, but still), to not pursue, not push, not text or call or try to see or contact Henry. Henry doesn’t want him, doesn’t like him, and certainly isn’t in love with him. Henry doesn’t want him and never would, not now, not after everything, not after Benedict kissed him and by proxy seems to have destroyed his relationship, wrecked <em>everything</em>.</p>
<p>Days turn into weeks, and he sees nothing of Henry, not even passing by outside the café. Hyacinth, either because someone told her too or because she’s just that astute, stops talking about her teacher, about how sad he is, about how the cupcake she bought him made him smile but not for very long, about how a tall man showed up at their class one day and yelled at him until Simon’s Mum chased him off, and Miss-Cowper-the-alien hugged Mr. Granville tight.</p>
<p>After Hyacinth finishes the school year, just a few weeks away now, that would be the last Benedict would ever need to have anything to do with Henry Granville.</p>
<p>It doesn’t matter how badly it all hurts. Benedict copes. The alcohol he consumes nightly is a great help. He turns to it more and more (and more, and more, and more), until one week in May he gets drunk every single evening and shows up to work hungover and ill every morning after. His mother tolerates it with silent disapproval for the first few days. By the fifth she puts her foot down and tells him off as soundly as she does Gregory and Hyacinth. He ignores her. The next morning, she sends him home the second he crosses the café threshold, bloodshot eyes and stumbling gait telling all. Without pay.</p>
<p>That evening she lets herself into his apartment (since when did she have a key?) and plants herself on his couch.</p>
<p>“No drinking tonight,” she tells him, blue eyes firm.</p>
<p>“I don’t need a chaperone,” Benedict grumbles, annoyed because he’d been meaning to get up and crack open that bottle of vodka on his bar cart, and now he can’t.</p>
<p>“You do. You can let me stay and we can do this together, just the two of us, or I call Simon and have him drag you home, and the whole drama plays out in front of the children.”</p>
<p>“There won’t be any drama. I don’t have a problem, Mum! I’m not an alcoholic.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps not. But you’re not going to drink tonight,” she says it so reassuringly that he finds he wants to do exactly as she says.</p>
<p>“Now,” she settles back against his couch and pulls his navy blue throw over her legs. “Pass me the remote, a Downton Abbey marathon is starting.”</p>
<p>By the second episode, he’s broken out in a sweat. By the fourth his hands are shaking so badly in his lap that he can’t hide it from her anymore and he stares down at them, horrified.</p>
<p>“Mum?”</p>
<p>“It’s alright, darling. It’s the withdrawal. It’s alright.”</p>
<p>Benedict doesn’t cry, but it’s a near thing. Instead, he curls up on her lap, trembling and fighting the urge to throw up.</p>
<p>“It’s alright,” she strokes his hair, his shoulder, her touch the only thing holding him together. He’s so embarrassed, so ashamed, that it feels like his body freezes up with it.</p>
<p>“I never meant for this,” he whispers through numb lips, cold to the very marrow of his bones. “How did this happen? Why is this happening to me? I don’t want this.”</p>
<p>“I know, darling,” she sounds so far away, and he has to strain his ears to hear her. But he hears her. “Everything will be alright, you’ll see. Everything will turn out just as it’s meant to. And until it does, I’m right here.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Benedict spends the following day drinking his weight in water and sulking in bed. Genevieve comes by in the afternoon, and huffs until he gets up and showers, then nags until he eats.</p>
<p>“So…” he mumbles to her through a mouthful of scrambled egg, finally starting to feel real again. “You and Lucy?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” she grins, blushes, and he shakes his head, disappointed in himself for not knowing, not being there for her.</p>
<p>“You’ve been preoccupied,” she placates, rubbing his arm. “I didn’t tell you because you’ve had so much to process and work through. I didn’t want to shove my happiness in your face when you were having such a difficult time.”</p>
<p>“I always want to celebrate the good things in your life,” Benedict insists, covering her hand with his. “On my deathbed I’d be cheering for you and Lucy. I’m pretty sure she hates me, though.”</p>
<p>“No!” Genevieve laughs like he’s told the funniest joke in the world. “She likes you quite a lot, actually. Thinks you’ll be far more suited to Henry than Hugh. Of course, I don’t know if she ever told Henry that while he was with him. There’s some things you just have to let people sort themselves out, even when it’s plain as day in front of their eyes.”</p>
<p>“Henry doesn’t want me,” Benedict shakes his head again, drains the last of his cup of coffee and wonders how many times he’ll have to say it and think it and <em>know</em> it before he finally becomes immune to the sting.</p>
<p>Genevieve looks confused, her mouth turning down. “But Lucy said…”</p>
<p>Benedict holds up a hand to cut her off. “It doesn’t matter what Lucy says.”</p>
<p>The words come out harsher than he means, but he can’t help it.</p>
<p>“All that matters is what Henry says, and that’s been shit all, to me at least. So. It’s done and buried.”</p>
<p>She looks completely unconvinced, but she drops the topic and even drives him to his Mum’s place – he’s not sure he can handle an evening alone yet.</p>
<p>Anthony greets him with a hug at the door and Benedict lets himself be pulled into his brother’s embrace, until Eloise ducks under their arms and burrows her way between their chests to join in. Benedict laughs into her hair, as Hyacinth comes flying down the stairs screaming, “Me too! Me too!” and scrambles up onto Anthony’s back. Eloise gets kicked in the kidneys before they all break apart.</p>
<p>Mum’s in the kitchen basting the roast chicken and Colin’s whinging about having to chop the vegetables. Gregory is upstairs on his computer but comes down almost eagerly when Anthony tells him Benedict has arrived.</p>
<p>It’s a nice evening. Nothing feels fixed yet, Benedict doesn’t feel right, or good, or even happy. But being with his family is comforting and familiar and he manages to let go of some of his agony and guilt. It’s nice.</p>
<p>It’s even good just to get out of his apartment. Sitting at the dining table surrounded by his family, eating his Mum’s cooking, listening to Colin’s plans for his imminent trip to Europe, laughing at Hyacinth and Gregory’s bickering, exchanging smirks with Eloise whenever Anthony says anything particularly Anthony-ish… it’s nice.</p>
<p>After dinner, Benedict drops down onto the couch, feeling better fed than he has in months, if he’s honest. Eloise curls up against his side, yawning and bemoaning an essay she still has to write. In the kitchen, Anthony tries to keep the kids under control as they wash dishes. Mum and Colin are hunched over his laptop on the other couch, trawling through airfare sites.</p>
<p>Benedict knows Eloise wants to question him, can feel the tension in how she flops about and fidgets under his arm, but he ignores her. Colin keeps shooting him long looks, too. But it’s Anthony that bites the bullet, probably because he’s the nosiest. He calls to Benedict without turning from the sink, where he’s elbows deep in dishwater.</p>
<p>“Heard anything from Henry?” Anthony’s shoulders are rigid, as if he expects an adverse reaction, but Benedict’s more surprised by the question than annoyed.</p>
<p>“No? Why would I?”</p>
<p>“Well, didn’t Hugh say…” Eloise starts, before Benedict cuts her off.</p>
<p>“Hugh was beside himself and had made a lot of things up in his own mind. It’s not fair to either him or Henry to place any stock in what he was saying.”</p>
<p>“But,” Colin interrupts, even though he hadn’t bloody been there when it happened. “He <em>did</em> say – “</p>
<p>“Nothing of any consequence,” Benedict fights to stay calm, focusing on his mother’s comforting eyes, the chatter of the children, oblivious in the kitchen with Anthony. Getting angry will only upset them.</p>
<p>Unsurprisingly, he finds it a lot easier to keep his wilder emotions in check without any alcohol buzzing through his bloodstream.</p>
<p>“No, Anthony, I haven’t heard from him. I don’t expect I ever will. He doesn’t… he isn’t interested in me, and that’s all there is to it.”</p>
<p>“Right. So, you’ve asked him, and that’s what he said?” Anthony queries.</p>
<p>“He knows how I feel,” Benedict can’t help the heat creeping into his tone. “I’ve made enough of an ass of myself.”</p>
<p>“Does he know, though?” Eloise replies. “Have you actually told him?”</p>
<p>“I… well, no, but it’s <em>obvious</em>…”</p>
<p>“Certainly, my dear,” his mother leans over, pats his cheek. “It’s quite apparent, yes.”</p>
<p>“But if you haven’t actually <em>told</em> him,” Colin takes up the questioning. “Is it really fair to expect him to come after you? Because from the sounds of it, all you did was kiss him, panic and scream that it was a mistake in his face, and avoid him like the plague ever since.”</p>
<p>“Not what one might think is the behaviour of someone very much in love with someone else,” their mother agrees.</p>
<p>“I don’t <em>expect</em> anything… for crying out loud, this is a fucking coup,” Benedict realises. “A fucking… <em>intervention</em>!” </p>
<p>“Watch your language,” Anthony growls.</p>
<p>“All we’re saying,” Eloise murmurs, petting at his hand like it’s a bloody cat. “Is that it might be beneficial to actually have a proper conversation with him.”</p>
<p>“I’m the last person he wants to see,” Benedict predicts, wanting a drink so badly that his fingers ache to wrap around a bottle. He squeezes Eloise’s hand instead. “He’s just broken up with his long-term boyfriend, he’s possibly moved out to somewhere new, the school year is winding down… there’s no way he could want to see me.”</p>
<p>“Keep telling yourself that!” Eloise snaps, suddenly livid and rising to her feet to storm off, muttering something under her breath that sounds like <em>coward</em>.</p>
<p>It doesn’t hurt him because she’s not wrong.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>No one tells Benedict about the school sports day, probably because they know he’ll refuse to go.</p>
<p>He arrives at work one summer morning to find Mum and Anthony packing up the cart they use when they cater outdoor events, while Penelope boxes up trays of their goods. No one says a peep to him about what they’re doing or where they’re going, so he only figures it out when they pull in at the school and he’s swearing like a sailor at them all from the backseat of Anthony’s jeep.</p>
<p>“Are you finished?” Mum scowls at him and he bites his lip to keep from spitting back at her. “Grow up, Benedict. We’re here to work. If you want to make a big drama about things after all this time, you’re obviously nowhere near as over him as you keep pretending. Which we’re all well aware of, by the way.”</p>
<p>With that she’s out of the car and unhitching the trailer all by herself, leaving him flabbergasted in the backseat.</p>
<p>“You told me once to have faith,” Penelope leans over to him across the backseat and pats the back of his hand. “Have you thought about taking your own advice?”</p>
<p>Benedict genuinely hasn’t.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We made it, guys! <br/>Thank you so much for the encouragement, I love y'all.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Benedict sulks all through the set-up of the coffee cart out on the school fields, all through watching the little kids come filing out in their P.E. uniforms, all through the families arriving and staking their claims on the best spots to set up camp, all through the first few rounds of events.</p>
<p>By mid-morning, Benedict is sweaty, sullen, and hasn’t seen a single glimpse of Henry. So. He’s not really having the best time, all things considered.</p>
<p>The school grounds are crawling with the kids, who are cheered on by parents and policed by teachers. There are even several dogs sniffing about, tails wagging. Everyone’s decked out in shorts, t-shirts, hats, and sunscreen. Gregory wins the egg and spoon race for his class, probably because he’s so good at keeping a singular focus for so long. Hyacinth comes second in the three-legged race with Alice and is so happy about it that you’d think she’d won the whole day.</p>
<p>The café’s cart is parked up on the side of the main school field and the roof of their gazebo keeps the sweltering sun off, but it’s a heat trap underneath. Benedict and Penelope are soaked through with sweat from manning the coffee machines, while mum doles out the baked goods in paper bags and runs the cash register. Eloise is stuck in class all day, and Anthony is meant to be helping at the cart but isn’t. He and Siena are ‘taking a break’, which means he’s been moping and texting her all morning. Colin is responsible for cheering on Hyacinth and Gregory at their various events, and Daphne and Simon show up with the baby in his pram to offer support, too.</p>
<p>Benedict hands over an iced coffee to one parched looking mother and is relieved to see that that’s the end of the queue for now. His mum shoos him to have a break, so he heads over to where his family has set up camp under an umbrella on the edge of one of the other fields.</p>
<p>Anthony’s looking miserable, even with baby Alexander on his lap. There’s no sign of Simon or Daphne anymore, which Benedict expects means they’ve snuck off to either sleep while the baby has six options for babysitter, or to have sex. Colin’s claimed one of the other chairs next to Anthony, and Gregory sits cross-legged at their feet, eyes on a PSP. Benedict reaches out to ruffle Gregory’s hair and steals his nephew for a cuddle.</p>
<p>Hyacinth is making daisy chains not too far away with a group of girls that includes Alice and Ellie the alien-enthusiast, and she waves when she sees him. He smiles back, hands full of baby.</p>
<p>“Hey little man,” Benedict murmurs to Alexander as he takes the chair next to Colin. “How are you doing?”</p>
<p>Alexander coos and waves his little arms, and Benedict is still smiling down at him when he notices Henry passing by about 50 metres away, carrying a crate of tennis balls.</p>
<p>He’s thinner, and more tan, and as handsome as ever and Benedict is so caught up in watching him that he misses what Colin is saying to him.</p>
<p>“Benedict! Did you hear me?”</p>
<p>“Hm, what?”</p>
<p>“I was telling you my itinerary. Greece, then Italy, then France! You <em>do </em>remember that I leave next week, right?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Yes. Of course.” Benedict tears his eyes away from Henry and all the heartache he brings and looks at his brother, at the excitement lighting up his eyes.</p>
<p>Benedict’s next words come without any thought. “Hey, can I come with you?”</p>
<p>Colin and Anthony both say “What?!” at the same time, twin expressions of surprise on their faces. Even Gregory looks up at him, mouth open. Benedict doesn’t blame them; he hasn’t given it any consideration, but he instantly feels it’s the right thing to do.</p>
<p>“If you don’t mind?” Benedict asks. “I think a holiday might do me some good. Put some distance between me and… things.”</p>
<p>“Things that keep looking over here but try to pretend like they’re not?” Colin asks, eyebrows raised.</p>
<p>Anthony, on the other hand, is pouting. “Now I want to come too!”</p>
<p>“Go on, then!” Colin laughs. “Why not? It will be more fun with the two of you than alone, for sure. We can sort out tickets when we get home.”</p>
<p>“Great,” Benedict settles back against his seat, bouncing the baby on his knee, and feeling more excited than he has since the rush of first meeting Henry. He has enough savings in his account, provided they don’t splash out on fancy hotels the whole time, or too much champagne and caviar. A backpacking trip around Europe with his brothers… the urge to sketch makes his fingers itch for a pencil. Bougainvillea on a white-washed wall in Santorini. Glittering Parisian streets at night. Sunsets staining rich Tuscan countryside’s with yellow, orange, purple…</p>
<p>Anthony is grinning over at him and Colin is laughing, and Gregory is begging to be allowed to come too, and Benedict’s little nephew is in his arms and he feels good. Happy. He’d almost completely forgotten what it was like.</p>
<p>“Has he really been watching me?” he asks his three brothers, trying to keep the hope from his voice.</p>
<p>“Oh my God,” Anthony mutters, dropping his forehead into his hand, as Colin groans an emphatic ‘YES’ and Gregory nods vigorously.</p>
<p>“Don’t look now,” Simon’s voice says from beside him, before Benedict grudgingly relinquishes his nephew to his father. “But my Mum’s got him cornered.”</p>
<p>The Bridgerton and Basset men watch as Estelle, all in flowing white with an interesting choice of headwear that looks like a top hat, advance on Henry. The man is none the wiser, busy spray-painting lines onto the field to demarcate running lanes. He only spots Estelle as she’s bearing down on him, and then he straightens up, looking wary.</p>
<p>“Should I…?” Benedict starts to say, but Simon shakes his head as he settles down onto the rug next to Gregory and stretches out with his son on his chest.</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>Benedict cringes as he watches Estelle wave a finger in Henry’s face, then, to his horror, turn and point directly at him.</p>
<p>“Ohhhh, this is already hard to watch,” Anthony mumbles, and Benedict looks over to find him peeking through his fingers at the scene.</p>
<p>“I really think I should –”</p>
<p>“No,” Simon says again.</p>
<p>“Is she yelling?” Colin wonders. “She looks like she’s yelling. If she yelled at me, I think I’d cry.”</p>
<p>“Simon, I –”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>Daphne wanders over and settles herself on the rug next to her husband, leaning back against Benedict’s shins. Alexander makes a funny squawking noise at his mother and she reaches over to stroke his hair.</p>
<p>“Oh dear, is Estelle tearing Henry a new one?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Benedict mumbles. “It’s not as if any of this is his fault. But Simon won’t let me rescue him.”</p>
<p>Daphne turns her Bridgerton-blue eyes up to peer at him. “Is that what you want to do? Rescue him?”</p>
<p>“And the rest,” Anthony huffs. Colin kicks him in the ankle.</p>
<p>“I really should intervene,” Benedict decides, giving Daphne a moment to stop leaning on him so he can stand. “I’m the one that fucked everything up –”</p>
<p>“Language,” Simon mumbles, having settled down with his cap pulled over his face, already seeming half-asleep.</p>
<p>“Sorry. Anyway. I can’t let Henry take the blame for this alone. It’s on me. I’m the one in love with him. I’m the one who’s ruined everything.”</p>
<p>“Did you just say you love him to us before you’ve even told him?” Anthony is unimpressed.</p>
<p>“… Yes?”</p>
<p>“This trip is going to be a fucking nightmare, isn’t it?” Colin mutters at the sky, as Daphne grabs Benedict’s hand and helps him get leverage to stand.</p>
<p>“Go. Just go.”</p>
<p>“Any parting words of advice?” Benedict begs, as he straightens his shirt and fusses quickly with his hair.</p>
<p>“Don’t fuck it up again?” Anthony thinks he’s funny, but he’s really not.</p>
<p>“Be brave,” Colin tells him, while Daphne just smiles. Simon is definitely asleep now, and Gregory is absorbed in his game again.</p>
<p>His sister’s answer for him is very simple.</p>
<p>“You know what you have to do.”</p>
<p>Benedict squares his shoulders and gets about half-way across the field to Henry, before little Alice comes rushing up and hugs him about the waist, halting his progress. He puts his arms around her in return out of pure habit.</p>
<p>“Hi, Hyacinth’s big brother Benedict!” she chirps up at him.</p>
<p>“Hello, Alice, how are you?”</p>
<p>“Hyacinth and I almost won the three-legged-race!”</p>
<p>“I heard about that, well done.”</p>
<p>“We don’t really, like, hug the students. It’s just one of those things, you know, with kids?”</p>
<p>Cressida Cowper has appeared before them, looking like a runway model in resort wear, complete with towering wedge heels and a wide-brimmed hat.</p>
<p>“Oh, right,” Benedict mutters, remembering all the times Henry has laid a hand on Hyacinth’s head in lieu of touching her.</p>
<p>Cressida sends Alice on her way, asking for the girls to make her a daisy crown too, then turns back to Benedict.</p>
<p>“Are you going to go help him? Cos Estelle can be <em>so mean</em>, sometimes. Henry’s my boy. I don’t want to see him suffering anymore, you know?”</p>
<p>“And how would you advise me to do that?” Benedict is genuinely curious in her answer.</p>
<p>“Just, like, <em>talk</em> to him. It doesn’t seem like you guys have even properly talked. The Hugh thing has been a total mess, and that break-up was years in the making, so he’s hurting. But if you two just communicate, I think you might have a shot at finally being on the same page.”</p>
<p>“You’re not wrong there,” Benedict admits, as Cressida sweeps her long curls over her shoulder and shrugs at him, then walks over to the girls and settles down on the grass with them.</p>
<p>“Good luck!”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Benedict mutters, though as he resumes his determined march, Henry snaps something at Estelle and whirls away, stomping off towards the school buildings.</p>
<p>By the time Benedict reaches her, Estelle’s noticed his approach and has already damned him to verbal Hell many times over.</p>
<p>“Idiot! Utter idiot!” she finishes, as he stops next to her and shrugs in agreement. “The pair of you! Idiots!”</p>
<p>“I’m going to try and make it right.”</p>
<p>“About two months too late!” She’s so unimpressed that she storms away, bearing down instead on his siblings and her son, who all look terrified at the prospect of her ire.</p>
<p>Benedict gets a little lost wending through the deserted school, but he eventually taps on Henry’s open classroom door. The man looks up from his desk, not at all surprised, but not exactly welcoming either. His eyes are tired, and he looks almost ill.</p>
<p>“I think we should talk,” Benedict says, in lieu of greeting. He has the presence of mind to take off Colin’s sunglasses and tuck them into the collar of his t-shirt.</p>
<p>“I expect so,” is the droll response, and Benedict is instantly annoyed.</p>
<p>“Are you going to make this ten times harder than it already is?”</p>
<p>“Maybe that should tell you something,” Henry scowls, and Benedict glares back as he steps into the room and snaps the door shut.</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, he leans his forehead against the wood for a moment, then gathers himself to face Henry once more.</p>
<p>“I wanted to apologise. I’m sorry I kissed you that evening. I’m sorry about you and Hugh. I’m sorry I upended your whole life. I’m sorry that I’m in love with you.”</p>
<p>Henry, for some reason, looks surprised, his eyebrows rising and his mouth falling open a little.</p>
<p>“In love with me? You’re not in love with me!”</p>
<p>“I assure you, I very much am.”</p>
<p>“No. No, <em>I’m</em> in love with <em>you</em>.”</p>
<p>“Wait, what? No, you’re not!” Benedict gapes at him. What the Hell is Henry talking about?</p>
<p>“Yes, I bloody well am! I have been for months.”</p>
<p>“You can’t be,” Benedict shakes his head. “I’ve been in love with you since we met! God, are we really arguing about this?!”</p>
<p>“I thought… it was only me…” Henry still looks so confused, even as he stands to move out from behind his desk. “It’s been such a mess, trying to support Hugh, but get over the breakup, trying to move on… I thought it was only me, though.”</p>
<p>“No. Not only you.” Benedict stares at him, helpless, lost. “Me too. I kissed you, for crying out loud!”</p>
<p>“You did,” Henry confirms, drifting closer.</p>
<p>“I tried to ignore it, before that. And after,” Benedict admits. “I tried to tell myself it was just a crush, I tried to keep away from you, I tried so so so hard…”</p>
<p>“Not half as hard as me,” Henry murmurs, quiet and eerily calm, as he continues his approach. “I was in utter hell. I kept telling myself it was nothing but admiration and appreciation for you, your company, how much you adore your sister. But I knew all along I was lying to myself and I felt so guilty. It was just… agony. And my feelings for you are still so tangled up with how horrible I feel about Hugh. It’s still agony.”</p>
<p>“So, you’re suffering as bad as me?” Benedict is amazed. Henry is close enough to touch now, but he holds himself back. “You never let on. I kissed you! I thought… you didn’t want me back?”</p>
<p>“I was still faithful to Hugh. But things with him had been a struggle before I met you. He wanted everything he could take from me but expected not to have to give in return. I had hoped that the new flat together, the dog… but deep down I knew that we were past saving. Then you appeared outside with Hyacinth, wearing sunglasses indoors and that shirt that was lightyears too tight on you – which was fantastic, by the way – and I just… after we talked that afternoon at the gates and I went home to Hugh, I should have told him it was over. Because I had met you, it was over. I could have avoided so much pain for him if I’d just ended it.”</p>
<p>Henry touches him then, brushes the backs of his fingers down Benedict’s cheek, and the intimacy of the gesture makes his body tremble in response.</p>
<p>“I was buzzing for that whole week, after,” Benedict admits. “I couldn’t sleep properly, couldn’t eat. Then you came into the café, and Hugh joined you, and I just had to shove all my hopes down, tell myself it was just a crush…”</p>
<p>“I remember that,” Henry smiles. “Your siblings were utterly charming. You were – are – utterly lovely.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know about that –”</p>
<p>“I do.” Henry kisses him, finally. It’s gentle and tender and it makes Benedict’s heart race, but after only a few moments Henry pulls away with a groan that sounds pained.</p>
<p>“Ah, can’t do that here,” he grumbles, looking forlorn. “One of my kids could barge in at any moment. Ellie’s been intent on collecting evidence that poor Cress is an alien, I wouldn’t put it past her not to sneak in unannounced.”</p>
<p>“Right,” Benedict agrees, his whole body shaking with adrenaline. “Right, God, my break was over ages ago, I’m due back at the cart.”</p>
<p>“OK,” Henry murmurs, and kisses him again. Benedict sinks into it, lets his hands delve into Henry’s hair and can’t let go. His mouth is just as perfect as Benedict’s wretched memory of that first kiss lets him remember, and Henry is the perfect fit in his arms, too, his hair silky under Benedict’s fingers.</p>
<p>“Have to stop,” Benedict remembers, pulling away but pressing his face into Henry’s warm neck, as Henry strokes his shoulders, rubs his back.</p>
<p>“There’s plenty of time for more, in more suitable locations,” Henry murmurs, eyes bright, and he squeezes the back of Benedict’s neck gently as they pull apart.</p>
<p>“You have me for a week,” Benedict tells him, now suddenly very much regretting his impromptu gate-crash of Colin’s trip. “Then I’m going backpacking in Europe with my brothers for a few weeks. Greece, Italy, France. I think… I think it will be good for me to get away from London for a while. Even though… I’ll miss you a lot.”</p>
<p>“I’ll miss you too, but the trip sounds brilliant,” Henry smiles wistfully at him as they head for the door. “When are you back?”</p>
<p>“Mid-July, I think?”</p>
<p>“I think the dust should have settled with Hugh, by then. And the school year will be well and truly over. Hyacinth would have moved up to the next year level. I won’t be her teacher anymore.”</p>
<p>“We can kiss the conflict-of-interest goodbye, then?”</p>
<p>“We can indeed,” Benedict kisses the words right out of Henry’s mouth, and they laugh against each other’s lips.</p>
<p>“I need to get back,” Benedict sighs, and Henry glances at the time and swears.</p>
<p>“I’m supposed to be refereeing the tug of war.”</p>
<p>They part after one more long kiss, and Benedict has to dig his fingernails into his palms to keep from pulling Henry closer.</p>
<p>“By the way,” Henry calls to him once they’re outside, as he turns to take a short-cut through a different avenue of buildings. “If you see Estelle, tell her she was wrong.”</p>
<p>“Wrong? No way. You want me killed so soon?”</p>
<p>“She’ll know what you mean!” Henry laughs, then disappears around the corner with a wave.</p>
<p>Benedict’s grinning like an utter idiot by the time he makes it back to the cart. He’s not so distracted, however, that he doesn’t notice Colin and Penelope standing very close together under a tree nearby, both blushing.</p>
<p>“Oi, oi, what’s happening there, then?” he asks his mother, who takes one look at his mussed hair and heaves a sigh of relief.</p>
<p>“Finally! Oh, darling, <em>finally</em>! I’m so pleased!”</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, that’s old news compared to this,” smirking, Benedict gestures to the couple, now fused together in a way that’s not quite appropriate around small children.</p>
<p>Anthony, who’s trying to make a coffee order but mostly seems to just be burning himself, abandons the coffee machine and turns instead to scowl at him.</p>
<p>“You and Colin are both loved up one week before we leave on holiday? Europe is going to suck now! You’re going to be insufferable with pining.”</p>
<p>“You could look at it that way,” Benedict takes over at the machine, grinning as he spots Henry about half a field-length away, watching him. “Or you could appreciate the fact that it means you have <em>two</em> wingmen.”</p>
<p>“There is that…” Anthony’s annoyed expression morphs into contemplation.</p>
<p>Benedict makes the short black (couldn’t be easier, Anthony, what the fuck?) and turns to hand it to the waiting customer, which turns out to be Estelle.</p>
<p>“Henry told me to tell you you’re wrong,” he tells her, before ducking behind his mother for protection. “I don’t know what about! I don’t know anything!”</p>
<p>Estelle’s eyes narrow. “Oh, he did, did he?”</p>
<p>She is storming off in Henry’s direction in the next instant; the man just folds his arm as she approaches, laughing even as she jabs him in the chest with a finger.</p>
<p>“What’s that all about?” Mum wonders.</p>
<p>“No idea,” Benedict shrugs, whistling a tune as he turns to wipe the coffee machine down. Anthony, who’s already disappeared, has somehow sprayed steamed milk <em>everywhere</em>.</p>
<p>“Things are good, then?” his mother asks, smiling at him pointedly.</p>
<p>It’s a beautiful sunny day, his family is happy, he’s about to spend five weeks in Europe with his brothers, and when he comes home it will be to Henry.</p>
<p>“Things are good,” Benedict agrees, pulling out his phone to call Genevieve so she can screech in his ear that it took him long enough, not before he snaps a picture of Colin and Penelope to send to Eloise.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>*Six weeks later*</p>
<p>Benedict flexes the fingers on his right hand absently, jiggling his foot in anticipation as he waits. Ahead of him, the line of people waiting to go through customs seems to stretch forever.</p>
<p>Colin, who’s in front of Benedict in the queue, shoots him an annoyed look over his shoulder.</p>
<p>“Quit fidgeting.”</p>
<p>“Can’t help it,” Benedict mutters, glancing down at his hand, a bit concerned. “God dammit, Anthony, I think you’ve given me a sprain.”</p>
<p>“That landing was not bloody natural, OK?” Anthony spits back, still looking a bit green. “There is no way a plane should ever be rocking that badly, ever!”</p>
<p>The wind had been a little strong coming into Heathrow to land, sure, but there is a distinct swelling to Benedict’s fingers where Anthony had clung to him.</p>
<p>“My ears are still ringing from his screaming,” Colin mutters to him, as they shuffle forward in the queue a bit more.</p>
<p>“I just want to get to Henry,” Benedict grouses, standing up on his tiptoes to see how much longer they’d be waiting.</p>
<p>“Well, I don’t want to be back at all,” Anthony grumbles. “I can’t believe it. I meet my <em>soulmate</em> on our last night in Paris!”</p>
<p>“Maybe we should have just left you there,” Colin doesn’t turn around.</p>
<p>“Would have saved my hand. God, come on, could this bloody queue move any slower!”</p>
<p>“I want to see Penelope, too,” how was Colin always so calm and reasonable? “Having a tantrum won’t help anything.”</p>
<p>“I’m not having a tantrum,” Benedict mutters petulantly, texting Henry even as he grumbles at his brother. “Besides, Pen is here, in this building! But I’m not seeing Henry till this evening.”</p>
<p>They’d agreed, for Hyacinth’s sake, that Henry wouldn’t come to meet him at the airport. After five weeks apart, there was no way Benedict was interested in keeping their reunion PG-13, and Hyacinth didn’t need that trauma. Henry was meeting Benedict at his apartment in a few hours’ time, instead.</p>
<p>Benedict was trying to be fine about it.</p>
<p><em>Missed you</em>, Benedict texts him, and Henry’s response is immediate.</p>
<p>
  <em>So happy you’re back!</em>
</p>
<p>The trip had gone fast – backpacking with his brothers to wherever they felt like going next had been liberating; Benedict’s bag was crammed to high heaven with filled-up sketchbooks and souvenirs for his family; the food was, in many cases, even better than mum’s, not that any of them would admit that… but everything had been underpinned with missing Henry.</p>
<p>“Stop bouncing around,” Colin grumbles again. “They’ll think you’re someone suspicious and we’ll be held up even more.”</p>
<p>“Do they stick you on the plane to go back where you came from, if that happens?” Anthony looks far too excited, suddenly.</p>
<p>“Oh my God, just book a flight back to Paris! It’s not like you do anything useful at work, anyway. Kate’s awesome and earns far more money than you, live the rest of your life as her kept-man.”</p>
<p>Anthony seems to quite seriously consider that.</p>
<p>Colin, for all his calm demeanour, doesn’t even wait for his older brothers to get through customs before he’s abandoning them to rush through the doors to the arrival’s hall.</p>
<p>“Bloody liar,” Benedict grumbles.</p>
<p>Anthony throws a look of longing over his shoulder as they follow Colin, as if he wants to ask if he can be taken back.</p>
<p>“You’ll see Kate soon, I’m sure,” Benedict pats his brother’s arm consolingly. “I just managed five weeks without Henry.”</p>
<p>A queer smile comes over Anthony’s face as they walk into the arrival hall, Colin up ahead already being hugged by as many of their sibling’s as can get their arms around him.</p>
<p>“Nice for you that you don’t have to wait any longer, then.”</p>
<p>“What?” Benedict follows the tilt of Anthon’s chin, and spots Henry, standing with Simon, Daphne and Estelle and smiling at him.</p>
<p>“Oh my God!” Benedict’s heart wedges itself merrily into his throat, and he has to blink a few times to be sure that Henry’s real and not just a figment of his imagination. Then Benedict dumps his backpack clean onto Anthony’s foot, ignoring his howl of pain (overdramatic, as always), and vaults the barrier to get to him.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Henry says, even as he reaches for Benedict in return. “I know we said later, but I couldn’t wait all that time, I was going mad!”</p>
<p>“Can someone cover Hyacinth’s eyes, please!” Benedict half-shrieks, and Eloise just has time to slap her palms over Hyacinth’s face before Benedict finally gets what he’s been missing.</p>
<p>Henry’s mouth is as soft and warm as he remembers, and… God was Eloise cheering them on?</p>
<p>“Stop that!” Benedict tells her, pulling away for one horrible moment to scowl.</p>
<p>“Sorry!” She doesn’t look it, and he shakes his head at her until Henry pulls him back in, after which nothing else matters all that much.</p>
<p>Walking out of the airport, hand in hand with Henry – pointedly ignoring Hyacinth confused queries as to what Mr. Granville was doing here and how come he kept kissing her bother Benedict and was he coming back to their house to live and why not – Benedict just has time to wonder to himself at how close he’d come to missing this, how much time he’d wasted denying how he felt about Henry, how many weeks he’d spent telling himself his happiness wasn’t worth anything.</p>
<p>Then Henry sneaks in another quick kiss, using the distraction of Colin and Eloise sprinting off ahead and smashing the luggage carts together like bumper cars, while Mum scolds them and Estelle volunteers to referee. Behind them, Gregory rides on Anthony’s shoulders, Daphne is on the phone to Francesca, baby Alexander babbles up at his father from his pram, and Hyacinth is holding Pen’s hand as she skips alongside her.</p>
<p>“Welcome home,” Henry murmurs to him, and Benedict squeezes his hand in response and has never felt happier.</p>
<p> </p>
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